Below is the first draft writing I did, that I pulled from for my version of Champagne Problems, by Taylor Swift.

would you have had time for my funeral? What if I hadn't made it? what if I didn't beat cancer? what if I needed you there one day out of the year and you couldn't make the time, to go a little out of your way, to say, congratulations. what if that was the last time  you have the chance to make the time? would you feel bad? what do you feel sad? what do you feel glad that relief could take over? would you notice the next year when I wasn't here? what do you say to yourself, I really miss her, we won't forget her, but her time stands still as hours marches on, and we can't be held responsible for her memory fading fading, gone. who was she, again? your friend, the one who died young and beautiful with so much left to give, so much life to live? she died tragically alone, surrounded by those who cared for her most. she could see how it would be easy for her memory to be a fleeting vexatious thought. she would rot in her audacious incapability, cursed to be a woeful tale, it never fails. thanks for the flowers, wish you could make it, see you next year, I love you too.

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Here is the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift, with my own words to it.

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Would you have had time for my funeral? 

What if I hadn't made it? 

What if I needed you there,

One day out of the year?

You couldn't, take the time to go a,

Little out of your way,

To say face to face sincerely,

Congratulations.

What if that was the last time,

You had the chance to make time,

There'll always be one more time,

Congratulations.

Would you feel bad would you feel sad,

Or maybe you're thinking,

You would feel glad that relief would take over.

Would you notice if I wasn't here next year? 

Would you say to yourself,

I really muss her and we'll,

Truly never forget her,

Congratulations.

But her time stands still as ours,

Marches on and we can't be held,

Responsible for here memory,

Fading, fading, gone.

Who was she again, your friend the one,

Who died young and beautiful,

With so much left to give and,

So much life to live she,

Died tragically all alone,

Surrounded by, those who cared the most.

She could see how it would,

Be easy,

For her memory to,

Be a fleeting, vexatious thought she,

Would rot in her, death or glory,

Cursed to be a woeful tale,

No matter what, it never fails.

A punch to the gut, she'd always abide,

Keeping life fucked up til she's dead, unless shed.

But don't get lost in your head,

It'd be such a travesty, so don't dread.

And, thank you for the flowers,

Wish you could've made it,

I'll probably see you next year,

And, congratulations.

Her time stands still as ours,

Marches on and we can't be held,

Responsible for her memory,

Fading, fading, gone.

There won't be one more time,

To say congratulations.

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I wrote this while I was deep in depression after I had gotten the cancer free diagnosis from my doctor. My brain finally had time to be still and exit fight or flight. The adrenaline was wearing off and life was slowly getting back to a different normal. And I had an incredibly hard time getting out of bed for around a month. Another two months of minimal activity outside of the bed, and I decided it was time for therapy. And then I started writing. And then I started putting some of that writing to some Taylor Swift songs. Why? Well, that's a story for another time.

Anyways.

This poem is a commentary on how most of us feel around the topic of death. What will it be like? Will I be missed? Did I matter to anyone? How long until I am forgotten? And to remember that, at the end of the day, time with those we love, matters most.

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Okay byeeeeee.

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~ Katie

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