Death of a Rose I'm coming back to haunt blather.

See if I don't.

kyree I'll be less than 30. 050621
falling_alone i hope they talk
i hope they tell stories
i hope they laugh.
i hope they realize there was always so much more i wanted to give.

would any of this be shared?

i hope there are people and people crowding.

and i hope there is singing.
i hope they sing for me, my ladies,
the notes i could never reach,
the words i could never remember.
no regrets.

i hope there is chocolate and ice cream.
and they bury me in sequins.
unhinged i want them to play satisfied_mind at the funeral just like jeff did

misstree At the funeral, I promise not to ask, "Where have you been for the past few years?"

When they come to collect my meat, I will not wonder how they can do such a job; neither one of us would come out the better for it.

I hope that all that I own is given to Goodwills, so that they can have a fresh start with someone that doesn't know they have ever been loved before.

I will look forward to learning what the question was, and while fourty_two will be on my lips, I will give the answer with a grin, expecting to be wrong.

I will miss what has come before. And then missing will be gone. And the me that was before will be gone. And there will be silence, for a moment, even as the music plays on.

And beyond that, the math gets stranger than fourty two, and I couldn't begin to contemplate the equations.
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