Underneath our skin we shine the same shade of winter, the shade that desperately misses its vibrant leaves and the autumn air. Underneath my spine sleeps a garden of roses, they lay awake each night with wide eyes and dry stems. For you were their source of water and sunlight, and together we both slowly wilt from your absence– for we both need you just the same. Remember me with sunlight in my eyes and moonlight in my lungs– for this was the way I would be still, if your fingertips were still curled around my wrists. But the light in me has burnt out, since the last time i saw you, and the moon inside my lungs now lives behind the clouds. Don’t remember me with ink stains on my chest and poems tattooed beneath my tongue. Because the words written in ink always find their way from the lines between my notebook, into my empty heart. And every poem they write, is every word I never say. Every word that lives it’s life stuck between my clenched teeth and the base of my throat. That’s where you’ll always live– that’s the only place you won’t fade away.