If One Day I'm Gone

 If one day I’m gone,

just let me fade —

if I return in a memory,

don’t let your tears cascade.

If a song reminds you

of the touch we shared,

hum it low, without my name —

as if I was never there.

If pain finds your heart

when the sky turns grey,

hide it deep within you —

don’t let it slip away.

Don’t keep my letters,

don’t frame my face,

burn the traces gently —

leave no sacred place.

Don’t bid me farewell

with trembling hands,

don’t bring me garlands —

or weeping strands.

I was never a journey

meant to stay,

I was the wind —

I blow away.

But if ever the nights

grow too still, too long,

turn to my poems —

they’ll make you strong.

Each word, a breath

I left behind,

each pause, a place

where I still hide.

When the rains fall

on your empty sill,

just smile and say —

"He's with me still."

Life will go on,

and you must too —

for I was a moment,

not the whole of you.

But if you ever ache,

and the world feels wrong,

open my verses —

that’s where I belong.

Don't say I’ve vanished,

or drifted away —

say this instead:

“He lives in what he couldn't say.”