When I’m gone

Do not remember me as I went,

But rather how I come back.

Remember me in the small things of life,

Lie the way I leave my room behind;

My pillow will forever be stained with the tears I’ve shed,

And my desk will always be a mess that Mom hates.

But remember me when you see a sunset that I’d call solid.

Or a packet of noodles, I lived off of.

When I’m gone, don’t miss me.

I’ll still be there, just not to have and hold.

I hope when I’m gone, no one sheds tears.

So share a laugh and think about what stupid joke I would crack as you pass a cigarette around.