t
literature

the author gives instructions for his death

quentinwrites's avatar
By quentinwrites   |   Watch
1 0 1K (1 Today)
Published: May 5, 2015
Don't sanitise me when I'm dead.
Don't dress me in a suit, fill your heads
with notions of perfection I couldn't fulfil
in life, and never can in death.
Don't erase the parts of me that hurt you -
don't delete my dubious history.
Rip out the rings from my pin-cushion face
coat my tattoos in makeup to hide
from the world things which made me look unique
but don't hide from the world my true warts
my faults and foibles, don't
pretend I was a saint.

Don't dress me up as special when I'm gone.
Don't stand at an altar spreading lies
about what a good person I was
in life, when you know that's not the truth.
Don't forget the parts of me that made me human
made me imperfect, that you hated, that
made you want to kill me until I was already dead.
Remember the parts of me that made you cringe
or shake with anger. Remember my personhood,
remember my humanity and never
forget the sinner that I was.
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once i asked you your favourite colour, and you said, "the brown of your eyes," so i put in one green contact and told everyone that i came out of the womb as a factory defect, half-priced, damaged goods. - sometimes i am from canada and sometimes i am from england and sometimes i am from spain. i've carefully tempered my accents and plotted out my stories with yellow and purple coloured pencils on index cards. my origin changes like the seasons. "why do you lie to everyone?" you ask. "why not?" i reply. - i wear nametags that read "alicia" and "liana" and "samantha," because i want to know how it feels to be someon
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reminders i carry in my hand:
dear me, you do not have a terrible heart. you do not have sad eyes and love is not a war you need to win. sometimes i feel like disappearing, but remember: we are never really alone. dear me, every now and then, you can close your eyes and still find your way. remember to breathe because you did not sink a paper boat and you are not floating underwater. you already know the answer to the question you are looking for. dear me, remember the small things, like the writing in the borders of pages. see the things that everyone else misses. listen to your thoughts and then lose yourself. dear me, laugh until it makes you cry. see
D
Dream On
A dream can be a passing thought; a passionate ambition. A dream can be a battle fought; a superficial mission. A dream can be a driving force; a forgiving comfort. A dream can be a thriving source; a deceitful consort. A dream can thrill you; drive you or kill you. Beware of this, dreamers— and Dream On.
© 2015 - 2019 quentinwrites
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c
compulsive liar.
once i asked you your favourite colour, and you said, "the brown of your eyes," so i put in one green contact and told everyone that i came out of the womb as a factory defect, half-priced, damaged goods. - sometimes i am from canada and sometimes i am from england and sometimes i am from spain. i've carefully tempered my accents and plotted out my stories with yellow and purple coloured pencils on index cards. my origin changes like the seasons. "why do you lie to everyone?" you ask. "why not?" i reply. - i wear nametags that read "alicia" and "liana" and "samantha," because i want to know how it feels to be someon
r
reminders i carry in my hand:
dear me, you do not have a terrible heart. you do not have sad eyes and love is not a war you need to win. sometimes i feel like disappearing, but remember: we are never really alone. dear me, every now and then, you can close your eyes and still find your way. remember to breathe because you did not sink a paper boat and you are not floating underwater. you already know the answer to the question you are looking for. dear me, remember the small things, like the writing in the borders of pages. see the things that everyone else misses. listen to your thoughts and then lose yourself. dear me, laugh until it makes you cry. see
D
Dream On
A dream can be a passing thought; a passionate ambition. A dream can be a battle fought; a superficial mission. A dream can be a driving force; a forgiving comfort. A dream can be a thriving source; a deceitful consort. A dream can thrill you; drive you or kill you. Beware of this, dreamers— and Dream On.
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