I want to be remembered as kind.
The girl that picked up pens.

Prideful, yes
self-centered, at times

but a compliment
a few words

a dandelion pressed to lips
wishing you peace.

Perhaps it isn’t nice
to eulogize yourself,

but will I find favor
in the eyes of the mourning?

Beautiful, if you say so.
Funny, she hopes you liked her jokes.

But when you don’t remember the way my hair curled
or how my voice got higher when I didn’t want to admit I’d done wrong

I hope you remember
the jacket, the birthday presents, the books, the hugs, the notes, the apologies.

I hope you remember
what was important to me.