Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.

Thank you, I needed that.
Because now, more than ever,
I burn
With the horsepower
Of a hundred suns,
Aching to prove you wrong.

For I am the dwarf star
That will reborn itself
Into a red giant.

And though the coldness of your words
And the void of your superficial gaze
Rip my heart apart like entropy,
I will not atrophy.

No,
I will eat
And work
And push
And grow
And burn
Bright, blinding light.

And I will gather your gaseous glances and metallic spite
And like a solar system forming from cosmic dirt,
From chaos,
I will stand.

Through the searing pain,
Through the soul-******* cold,
Through the craters you leave on my skin,
I will stand.

Even if it takes me a thousand,
A million, a billion years,
I will stand.

Little by little, inch by inch,
I will stand.

As certain as the stars,
I will stand.
I will stand.

Now,
I stand.