First, if I am comatose for a while pre-death, don't let them call me a fighter.
I'm probably not fighting it.
It's probably the first time I've been able to relax in a decade.

Second, keep my death off the internet.
Tell my friends of my demise with handwritten notes delivered by white-gloved butlers with somber expressions.
Tell my enemies by sitting on their chests and poking them in the forehead repeatedly until they guess how it happened. It shouldn't take long.

Third, my friends from high school will immediately try to design stickers for their car windows with my name on them and a graphic of dance shoes or track shoes or my college mascot.
You are not to allow this.
A sticker denoting the death of a loved one will not keep fellow motorists from noticing that my friends from high school **** at driving.

Not permitted at the funeral:
Gerber daisies
poetry
blue jeans
any ex-boyfriend I refer to by something other than their name (i.e. "the fat hipster I used to hang out with.")

Encouraged at the funeral:
Hugs - everyone must hug
lots of appropriately sad, yet tasteful songs sung by my musically-minded loved ones (may I suggest "In Light of Time" by Phillip E. Silvey?)
And make sure they bury me in the blue dress.

Last, for every story they tell about me where I was kind or selfless or funny or caring,
make sure someone also tells the story where I got too drunk at a frat house and made out with a kid from upstate New York and then spent four hours passed out and/or puking on the floor of the communal bathroom in Ashley's building,
or the one where I punched Savannah in third grade,
or the one where I rolled a car for no particular reason.

Remember me as I was.

We used to be dreamers
Like how the moon chased the sun
And all he got were the glisten lights
Of little stars that tried too hard

We used to be dreamers
Like waves pursuing each chance
To reach the hands of the shores
Yet never seem enough to

We used to be dreamers
That painted the sky red
With the burning passion
That blazed stronger than the sun

We used to be dreamers
Where we could paint with fire
And sing with the wind
Like wandering souls travelling by

We used to be dreamers
That sought the stars in each other's eyes
Where no one can surpass us
But who are we now?

I love you.
I will never abandon you like everyone else.
Never would I hurt you,
Unless you disobey me.
For I own you.
You are my property.
Like a little teddy bear I cuddle
And squeeze you until your stuffing pops
Out from behind your eyes.
Your beautiful eyes.
Watch and observe.
Observe your body, disgusting.
I provide goals for you.
Something to do, a challenge to accept.
No matter how many times you cut the cord,
We will forever be attached.
I, as a newborn
Feeding off all that is you.
Or I, as your mother,
Protecting you and entrapping you, inside my womb.
Our lives depend on each other.
We are one.
United through your blood.
Your every breath.
I am your best friend.
Loyal and honest.
As long as you have me,
You need no one else.