someday when I die
if my thoughts continue on
without a body or being
I often wonder if
my postconsciousness
will still think of you

will you be the last thought
the final breath I draw
guiding me to the stars
a voice whispering
I'm good and still loved

if you are engraved
into my very soul
impossible for me to wash off
or remove

I'll die haunted
by the person you are
the things we never were

a lobotomy can't fix me
you will still exist

even when my heart stops beating