You are piles and piles of books, every author you’ve read, every adventure
you’ve explored, every tear you have cried, and every shiver felt.

You are notebooks filled with unfinished lines, the melodramatic
papers that are written with an abrupt stop because you have to catch yourself before you fall into your memories of your past, the words that trouble your soul, desperate for a voice
but you shy away in fear of being hated.

You are the music that’s been on replay for the last couple days. Hard
beats loud and proud but yet comforting and smoothing. You are from soft
movements side to side rocking your sinful hips into an artwork.

You are the heavy smell of pears and berries to mask the smell of smoke.
The cigarette that you hold in your hands stinks and makes you cough
but yet you refuse to let it drop because you fear of losing the comfort of its burning sensation.

You are the bedroom that is in different shades of blue,
the blankets a navy, the pillows a sky. The teddy bear that stands taller by a foot that you
cuddle and cry yourself to sleep each night.

You are jeans that know how to shape your legs beautifully. The large t-shirt
that teasingly tugs at your slim waist when you reach out for me. Shorts that
reveal the tan and muscles of your thighs.

You are screams that come from within, from hatred of their hands.
You are the yelling that booms through the house, shaking it furiously.
The red faces that scream at the top of their lungs trying to stop the violence
You are the laughter that comes forced. You smile because you have given up.
A small chuckle to block out your hurt and pain that you cannot describe to anyone.


You are the blade silver and rusty with blood,
blood that touches the ground with a harsh sound.
Your tears that slowly fall to mix with your blood, creating a puddle of light red.

You are Melody, my best friend
You are the one that left me.
You are the one that I found on the bed, pale and blue.
You are the memories that I cherish forever.