When I Die

I don’t want a tombstone 

I don’t want to be a diamond

Or help regenerate the coral reef

When I die

I want to be a poem 

With too many metaphors

And no form 

A poem that helps you forget 

The world’s on fire

One that challenges the belief that God lives in the sky

And not in worn out book pages

When I die

I want to be a poem you can’t read in church 

Or to your mother

A poem that leaves fingerprints on all of your glass surfaces

And must be stored in a sharps container 

A poem that takes up too much space 

And never apologizes for it

Downstairs neighbors banging on the ceiling

Broom in hand

Did you know 

Stars get to live past their expiration date

Maybe I want to be a star

No.

I want to be a poem that people wish on

One that bends gravity 

I want to be the kind of poem that guides lost souls home

Did you know 

Magic can only be debunked if you don’t believe in it

I believe that poems are magic

Maybe I want to be magic 

No.

I want to be a poem with magic threaded through every metaphor

When I die 

I want to be a bedtime story 

A queer history book taught in public schools

I want to be a mural 

Spray painted on the side of a brick building 

A reminder of 

How easy it is to love one another

I want to be a road map 

With veins that connect your feet back to your heart

A bar menu only serving glasses half full 

An exit plan 

An owners manual

A score card

I want to be a love letter

When I die

I want to be a poem

And when I say that 

What I mean is

Will you remember me?