In Lieu of Flowers

In lieu of flowers, I want you to read this poem

For these words and scribbles come from the deepest and darkest corners of my throat

Bring me a bouquet of letters, and your beaming memories

Like our picnic under the birch tree, a checkered blanket laid beneath us on the knobby forest floor, and how I laughed until my insides burned after you tripped over that damn branch, you can remember the way it jutted out of the ground

For I don’t want the pain to scratch at your lungs and solidify in your stomach

I know when you cry your eyes look more blue like the Atlantic than they do green

But I like your green, and your freckles and your crooked teeth, and the lines and roads that map your face when you smile

I did admire the beauty of daffodils, but please, don’t bring me daffodils

In lieu of flowers, bring me the tranquility of rain that I grew to love

When we would sit in my driveway for hours, until the numbers and lines and ticks and tocks melted off of the clock

My hair was spotted darker, and strewn with rain drops and so was yours, but oh god

We smiled

I do not want the trash bin to be filled to its wiry brim with used tissues

or to hear the aching sounds that disease the air

Bring me the laughter and bring to me light that beamed through you in June

Just place it on my doorstep, don’t be afraid to get your calloused hands dirty

and know I will be out to retrieve your love and wishes once the stars tuck me in under a charcoal blanket

Please do not remember me for who you wanted me to be

Remember me for who I was

Raw and trembling

In lieu of flowers, please remember me



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