die tonight

if i were to die tonight,
i wonder what color your tears would be.
if i were to die tonight,
what flowers would you pick to remember me?
if i were to die tonight,
i wonder how you'd remember me.
you told me,
once,
that you hated the way you remembered me.
that you could only ever picture the back of me,
already leaving the coffee shop
already leaving the classroom
already leaving the restaurant
already leaving your life.
you told me your favorite memory of me
was one you knew I didn't remember at all.
by the waterfall, feet muddy, a swipe of dirt across my cheek.
you tell me how i reached my hand out to touch the water,
and how it sprayed over me, 
turning gold in the sunlight,
and you always say exactly what you were thinking,
in those days before i rotted within your mind.
this girl is golden.
am I still golden,
now that you've seen inside me,
to all my venomous words
and dying roots?
if i were to die tonight,
would you mourn?
you said, one winter,
that i was the type of person unable to die.
that you could not imagine a world without me in it.
if i were to die tonight,
you would be living in that world.
i'm not going to die tonight.
nor tomorrow evening,
or tuesday afternoon.
i just simply wonder,
what you'd think if you blinked and i was gone.
if you woke up to silence on the other end of the phone,
no way to hear my voice apart from old videos
and the voicemail i haven't changed in years.
if you were to die tonight,
i don't know how i would answer these questions.

i suppose that's the point really, isn't it?