If I die tomorrow, please don't confine me in a half-hearted casket, never send me a dying flower, a condolence, and never a tear.

I am not a tragedy.

Instead...grind my bones to powder and sprinkle them to the air. Let me breathe the breath of the many I have wanted to comfort.

Let me graze upon their cheek and ruffle their hair. I want to let them know that I still care though I'm not there with them.

That I can touch them, and hold them dearly

and whisper in their hearts...

"I love you"

still in the same way I do now
and so much more tomorrow.