I would rather you remember me as a star

Worshiping me for sewing solar systems together

Blinding, searing, a white dwarf

One rotation away from exploding

Consuming even black holes in all of their might

I would rather remember you as a lightning storm

Striking, lighting me aflame, electrocuting

Brightening up my world for only seconds,

Giving me just enough to stick around

Teasing, taunting, tormenting

Blackening my flesh, you ate away like acid

You burnt out my stitches then blamed me

For falling apart

But instead I'll remember you for your waters

Feeding, rejuvenating, growing me stronger

And you'll remember me for my willingness and understanding

For drinking your rainstorm even when we both knew it was polluted

Remember me as the wind in tall grass

burnished stars cuddling in moon’s bosom

the rays of the sun kissing your supple skin

blonde fingers of tender dawning light

the gentle lap of the foam specked tide

the soft sand dribbling through hands

cherubic puffed clouds frolicking in sky

faces of my children shining their future

the momentary glances of strangers

and the warm laughter of friends

the soft rain and tumultuous storms

the passion of two embracing lovers

kind words to uplift those feeling sadness

flowers lifting faces to celestial sphere

search for truth and justice for all

Yes, remember me, as rich nourishment

giving my body back to the earth.

I would rather you remember me as I was. Before.

Shining beautiful, tingling with desire, crying easily, talking and stepping too loud. Embarrassing, but funny…or so I thought. Remember me pinching your armpit where my head, tucked, was always the coziest, making you wriggle, squeeze tears and snort laughter. Remember me snuggled up tight with our babies, snoring and stealing your covers… with one eye open.

Forget this exhausted shrunken husk, dehydrating in the late summer air, begrudgingly giving feed to the tumor that used to nip and graze sometime, but has finally settled in for the long banquet.

So that when my soul, afire, spills open into the autumn wind, coating golden spinning leaves…and you…and them, you can shake me loose and dust me off. And help the kids do that too.

And remember me as I was. Before.

I would rather you remember me as a story,

See through my pages.

Memories make tragedies where as, if you read through my clips and phrases you'll find discovery.

You'll meet all sides of me,

and it would be as if we walked together once more. In pages I pour messages of my hearts gentle music, and i illustrate a side of me you just couldn't view if you were to simply just meet me. Even if you were to see me in your day to day. So, with each word that I drip to this page in my outpour, it is one more thing I wish to share with you.

It is what I have to give. What I'm here for, and so remember me your friend, but know me henceforth as each sentence I leave when I can't be here anymore.

Resting in Peace

or resting in paradise

usually lies

an "amazing" person,

one loved by everybody,

flaws forgotten.

Made up to look alive

even if they had been

bludgeoned in the head.

A slate wiped clean by the guilt

of speaking ill of the dead.

I'd rather

you remember me

as a ball of anxiety

and crying tears of black widows

who tried to exact revenge on those

who dared mess with my soul

I wasn't always brave

and didn't always make

the right decisions.

Remember

that I was broken

but I used my shards

to fight off my demons

and reconstruct protective walls

to keep myself together.

because my life belongs to me

not the things that have

happened to me.

Know that I hated

Know that I loved

And that I lived the best life

that I could.

I would rather you remember me as

What I was to you.

In that way,

I'll live on as a man of many things.

Was I a good person?

Well, only if I was good to you.

Was I cool and composed?

Well, only if I never let myself break down in front of you.

Was I brave and courageous?

Well, only if I never ran when you were there.

I don't want to be remembered as

What I think I was

But rather as

What I really was.

I would rather you remember me 

as your cliff hanger to your favorite book;

as your plot twist to your favorite movie.

Did my mysteriousness ever entice you?

I would rather you remember me

as your tears, because the protagonist died;

as your shocked face, because the hero lost.

Maybe I was not what you expected.

I would rather you remember me

as the bleach stain on your favorite shirt;

as the rip in your new jeans.

I didn't mean to hurt you, don't let me go.

I would rather you remember me

as that sunset you always look at fondly,

when you sit upon that hill by the river,

because I light up your world, I hope.

Hold on to my rays of affection, my dear friend.

I would rather you remember me as

Happy, 

Joyous,

Merry,

Cheerful,

Gleeful, 

Beaming,

Jolly,

Glowing,

Blithe,

Buoyant,

Radiant,

Joyful,

Carefree,

Me.

I would rather that you remember me as the girl next door....your childhood crush, your high school love. Sneaking out passed curfew to runaway. Making it to the park before we realized we were only ten and our mothers would kill us. Making fun of my braces while I poked fun at your glasses. The night of the junior high dance, when you walked me home. We stood awkwardly as my dad would peek out the window making sure you were on your best behavior. I was mortified but you laughed brushing your fingers across by flushed cheek. You thought it was cute, I pouted....annoyed. And then it happened, you kissed me. There were no sparks or fireworks like in the movie.....no I could feel the butterflies erupt inside me.  Mr. Freeman's high school biology class were I refused to dissect a frog. You stood on your desk shouting a great injustice has been made. We spent the next few days in detention for disturbing the class. I would rather that you remember as the girl you asked to marry you on prom night. The girl who foolishly fell in love with the boy next door instead of the girl who insisted she was okay to drive. The girl who drank too much. The girl who wouldn't pull over. The girl who took away your life because she was too stubborn to admit you were right.

Years will pass and people will grow... for the better or for worse. For me, I am no longer the girl I was in primary school, no longer the girl I was in secondary school, in junior college. I've changed, and everything that I've experienced in the recent years? They have a part to play in the character I play in my own story.

The worst thing to say to myself now is that I dislike who I am, so I'm not going to get to that. There are many flaws in the character I have chosen to take up, and I accept every single one of them, even though some of them may be cringe-worthy. But if I'd like someone to remember me by, it's the way I laughed so, so easily when I was younger, because believe it or not, that's what all of us need the older we get.