If I Die Before I Am Ready

If I die before I am ready

let my body become wildflowers

growing in the cracks of concrete.

Let my bones feed the roots of trees

nestled underneath manicured lawns.

Let my teeth be scattered

like seeds the wind forgot to bury.



Do not let them call it tragedy.

Do not let them fold my name

into a prayer they never meant to keep.



Dress me in color,

in laughter,

in all the names I claimed

and all the ones I never spoke aloud.



If I am taken,

let me become a thousand soft rebellions;

a hand held in a hallway,

a banner waved at dawn,

a child who says 'this is who I am'

and is not afraid.



Remember me not in silence,

but in the wild

where no one ever asked you

to be smaller than your joy.