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.
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