pretty when the wind blows

the rain drowned the sky like ocean waves crashing in the middle of a highway

and you can find me in my room writing you a letter

about how days blur into months

and how girls turn into ghosts

trapped between the pages of old notebooks

i tie my heart to a purple balloon,

watching it drift into the horizon

where the sun meets the moon

and the stars look like fireflies

waltzing to the tune of a fading lullaby

when i’m gone, sing me a song

about how pretty the leaves fall

when the wind blows to the east

and you can scatter my ashes

upon the lake where we used to

dip our toes in the water

in autumn, i want you to bury our memory in

the dewdrops stuck on the petals of waterlilies

and in summer, whisper my eulogy

on a thursday night when the clock strikes twelve

and in winter, light me a candle and let the wax

melt into a puddle of forget-me-nots

so you will always remember

me in spring