Sephy carefully laid the flowers on the snow-coated grass. Memories flashed through her head as her fingers traced the icing-dusted grass, fluttering near her like tiny butterflies, so near, but completely out of reach. Sitting on the beach with Callum, making love with him -it took her a long time to want to remember that memory again because it was the most beautiful experience of her life, losing her virginity to the man she loved, that was so callously ruined by Jude and by the situation they were in- every detail of his face, everything about him. But there was one memory that she didn't want, that stuck around, even when she didn't want it, that replayed over and over, like a broken record. It was when she stood and stared as the man she loved slowly suffocated to death. She had called out his name again and again, not caring if people stared. She had thought she heard him call hers, but it did nothing to plug the gaping hole that was tearing away at her heart.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

She did nothing to stop the sobs that tore themselves from inside of her, as she crumpled to the soft, snowy ground beneath her.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

Salty tears stung her eyes, so she shut her eyes, letting the warm tears fall down her dark cheeks. They dripped onto her knees, staining her favourite skirt, with tears, snow and grass stains. But she didn't care.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,

The cold wind whipped past her, blowing her long dark hair around, caressing her face, kissing her lips, whispering secrets in her ears. Taunting her with forgotten feelings, forgotten love.

I am the softly falling snow.

Her fingers traced the ground beneath her, feeling the soft snow beneath her hands, watching as her tears made little circles in the white canvas on the ground, shivering as her fingers lost their feelings. But she didn't care.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

A sudden crack of thunder overhead roused Sephy from her dreamlike state. She raised her head to the sky, waiting until her tears were indefinable from the rain splatters on her face.

I am the fields of ripening grain.

The rain soaked her clothes until they were completely wet, and the snow had disintegrated and her hair was heavy and filled with water, draping round her shoulders like a wet, black curtain. But she didn't care.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am the starshine of the night.

Sephy barely noticed when the darkness loomed overhead and the stars came out from their midday slumber to shine brilliantly. The moon cast a silver spotlight onto Sephy, illuminating her outline in the darkness. If anyone was too look upon her that night, then they would see the shape of a broken woman. But she didn't care.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

Her hands lightly touched the flowers she'd laid, as she thought how beautiful they were in the moonlight, the colours all fading to silver.

I am in a quiet room.

The silence seemed to echo around her, buzzing in her ears. The wind had stopped a long time ago and the quiet was worse. It made her sobbing ten times louder, it made her heavy breathing sound like coughing, it made her tears dropping on the ground sound like a drumbeat.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

Sephy wiped her face with the sleeve of her jumper, and stood up stiffly. She painfully ignored her constant shivering, each shiver seemed to tear apart her soul in an unconscious shudder. She tenderly kissed her hand and pressed it to the ground.

"Love you Callum" she whispered, as she turned around and slowly walked away.

I am not there. I do not die.