when i’m 6 feet under, and the bugs are eating my heart, all they will taste is you. and when they eat my brain, all they will see are glimpses of you. when they eat my lungs, all they’ll breathe is the last sigh i saved for you. and when they reach my bones, all they’ll hear is the echo of every word i never said aloud. and when there’s nothing left of me, not even dust, i hope the wind still carries the part of me that never stopped reaching for you.