Dear You

Dear You,

You are the living embodiment of beautiful white gold.

You are the sound of the ocean through a gift shop seashell.

You are the God or goddess of your future, The one thing that maters.

You are  all of van Goghs paintings put into one a masterpiece that only few can design.

You are a god of destruction. Someone who can be beaten down so much but can rebuild themselves in the end.

You are like the raindrops that Fall in a Summer thunderstorm. Silent. And Blissful.

You are the pen drop in a silent room.

You are a force of nature. A tornado ripping through a field of. The destruction. Is nature.

Though you are destruction.

You are also the people after a Catastrophe has hit.

You will rebuild. Replenish. And flourish.

Because even though you are the disaster.

You are You.

You are perfection.

And Perfection is something few can achieve.