How to Touch the Sky

I don't know what happens when you die.

I would like to think that at the least, you somehow get to see your funeral.

You get to see who really gives a s**t

 and who just took advantage of you while you were there. 

I would like to think that in your last minutes of life,

everything is beautiful 

and it's not one of those moments when you have to pretend to be happy. 

The only reason I believe this is because if everything just...ends, there has to be some good part before just nothing.

Some reason why you've gone through everything,

some reason for all the heartache and fights,

something. 

I hope in those last few moments, 

that it feels like your smile under a kiss. 

I hope it smells like a mixture of cigarette and watermelon. 

I hope it sounds like you asking me if I know the joke 

about the poor pretzel (he got assaulted), 

and it feels like me rolling my eyes and laughing at you. 

I hope it's nothing a thousand text messages

or smiles 

can replace.

I hope it's me falling in love with

the color of your eyes

and the way you smile

while your flicking the ash off your cigarette. 

I don't know what happens when you die. 

But I hope there's a moment

of pure happiness before you pass, 

I hope it feels like you.