Emily Alexander
When you die
you leave behind
all things unfinished
all things you meant to do
that paper half written for History
that book mark still in chapter 12
the garbage never taken out
the cup of tea half empty
the new outfit you were going to wear
that perfume you just bought
that jar of money not filled yet
the phone calls you meant to return
those clothes you wanted to donate
the calendar still stuck on June
the dust that had been collecting on the
the scrapbook only half full
the list of things you wanted for your sweet
sixteen
the bed sheets messy and unmade
the laundry ready to be done
the IM conversation never finished
that painting never hung on the wall
those magazines still strewn on the floor
that letter you were writing but never sent
that goal you never quite reached
the gum wrappers on your desk
the last line to the poem you were writing