one day
my epitaph will be engraved
with someones interpretation
of my final "i love you"
and let the last receiver of the phrase
hear it echo in their ears
as they seal the casket with a eulogy
read from a lousy dog-earred looseleaf
and let me drain the blood from their cheeks
at the mention of my name then forward
and all my bad parts will bleed out
and once my name is no longer synonymous
with death
my name will twitch the corners of their lips
when they pass by where we met
and eventually those memories and more
will disappear in chunks
with each mourner passed away
then let my face only exist in old albums
in houses of people born too late to know me
until those too perish with time
and then boiled down
i will only exist in words
of my epitaph