The music that tears through my eardrums
beating a desperate path through my body.
Reaching, seeking down deep into my bones.
Linkin Park tumbling along my veins.
The books that whisper their sweet nothings to me.
Their words a caress of tenderness.
Love surging for the worn pages,
some neat and white, some older and brown.
Another page turned, gone but not forgotten.
The words that taste like Coca-Cola waiting for
a hefty shake from my brain to come surging upward
The tears that flow in rivulets down my face,
the ones that stay hidden in the fortress,
the ones that bumble along without destination.
I am the books I love,
the music I listen to on replay,
the tears that glisten in my eyes,
the Coca-Cola words
-strong and biting, sweet and refreshing-
that I speak.
I am and so will be.