my words are spent
my tears are shed
but now I lay awake
revisions in my head

what could I have said
to prevent the inevitable
were the words I gave you not loud enough?
was the handwriting illegible?

I don't write these words to hurt you
I don't say these things to make you cry
I just fall to pieces here
helplessly I stand by

I've decided that should anyone
years from now
discover my body
I want them to find me blind-
not from grief and sadness that I saw
but from the beauty my eyes beheld.

I want them to find
the disks in my neck worn-
not from lifting my nose at the inferiority of this place
but rather due to the fact that I was constantly gazing up
simply to remind myself that I get to be a piece in it all.

I want my lips to have trembled, smiled, spoken, gaped
my ears to have listened, to have listened, to have heard
my wrinkles to be evidence of laughter, evidence of worrying

my hands to have been held,
to have fought, grasped
and most importantly to have let go.

When they find me
I want my piercings to be evidence of my interest in pain
and the calm that follows.

I want my body to be riddled in love
agape, philias, eros, storge
I want my scars to be testaments to
my fearlessness, my carelessness,
my courageousness, and my curiosity.

Should they find my spirit gone
should they find my body dead
I want them to know
I want them to know I lived.

To write
To speak
To express
The communication that forms this mess
One voice that sparks a movement
One voice that seeks to prove it
To prove to you your strength
To speak with you at length
To share with you a story
Of deep sorrow and golden glory
To articulate these things unsaid
To express these thoughts buried deep in my head
I grasp for ears and words
Anyone to listen
Anyone whose heard