Nov 2014
When I die
I want you to remember me
Flip through my photos
Like I would do of you
Read my poems
The good, the bad, the disturbing
Let the tears stream down your face
Empty yourself of breath and gasp
As you cry as hard as you ever have
Because this is how I always felt
Edit 11/5/2014:
In case you are really reading this after my death, I love you, and I will say hi to God for you if he's up there and if I know who you are and if he's a cool dude and not all authoritarian. Or if he's just a really loving guy; I guess he'd like to hear from you then, too. Anyway, I wasn't really quite this sad all the time, but I did feel a lot of loneliness, and I was sad. Severely lonely at times. Like there was nobody that got me at all and nobody that wanted my true self because if they didn't get me, how could they want me as I actually am? But I do love you even if I couldn't accept your love the way you wanted me to. And I'm sorry I couldn't. And I probably miss you.
I want you to remember me
Flip through my photos
Like I would do of you
Read my poems
The good, the bad, the disturbing
Let the tears stream down your face
Empty yourself of breath and gasp
As you cry as hard as you ever have
Because this is how I always felt
Edit 11/5/2014:
In case you are really reading this after my death, I love you, and I will say hi to God for you if he's up there and if I know who you are and if he's a cool dude and not all authoritarian. Or if he's just a really loving guy; I guess he'd like to hear from you then, too. Anyway, I wasn't really quite this sad all the time, but I did feel a lot of loneliness, and I was sad. Severely lonely at times. Like there was nobody that got me at all and nobody that wanted my true self because if they didn't get me, how could they want me as I actually am? But I do love you even if I couldn't accept your love the way you wanted me to. And I'm sorry I couldn't. And I probably miss you.
This is a poem I wrote a month ago. I got to thinking about it and wanted to add something in case it actually happens someday that someone reads this poem after I've died.
