Right before I die,

What memory will my mind

hold onto?

As my brain frantically bursts

through its last reserve of energy,

Who will fill its neurons with activity?

A family member, friend, or lover?

Of whose regards will my dying thoughts be?

I just hope they’re not like my dreams:

Whose bizarre reality

have no value or meaning.

No,

I wish to go

Ending with a fleeting memory

Of someone that made life worth living.