Olivia Struthers

I am a poet whose words mean nothing to someone, And everything to someone else. I am the noises at night that cause you to pull the blanket up To your nose. Mysterious, dangerous. I am blue water cascading down a rock face made from Music. Psychotic in the brain, And sane in the the heart. I am death’s fingers grasping your soul, Doing the devils dirty work. I am controlled chaos, Beautiful pain, And heartfelt lies. I am summer breeze blowing through your bones. I am happy memories, Of a lost one. I am joy that races through your veins, And strikes you in the heart. I am art, Etched into my skin. I am secrets, Of scary people. I am the imagination, That books bring. I am a silent guardian, A watchful protector, A dark knight.