Underneath it All

If I stripped my skin, leaving nothing but who I am to my core, would you take a road trip around my carefully built home? You could start by coasting through the rivers lying beneath my eyes, built of tragedy and happiness covered in a pretty crystal blue disguise. Moving around slowly, taking in the scenery, careful to take pictures of everything in the exact place where they may be. How would you feel about the music that hums around my brain, could you figure out that the lyrics mean more than just what they simply state. If you saw the vault marked not to be open would you care? Would you find a way to open it to watch my most painful memories take flight, like a horrid moth trying to pretend to be a beautiful butterfly?  Next, would you take a drive to the very back of my brain where my memories are on display, like a movie theater constantly put on replay?  If you saw the internal marks, left my life, would you try to place them to the memories that sometimes clouds my eyes? Down you would descend to the center of it all, where you would stop in the tracks when you see my heart home. How would you approach it, recklessly or with care? As you got closer would you notice the broken things hanging off it as you get near? Would you notice the one broken window near the very top? Maybe how the door hangs on the hinge is just a little off. If you noticed that no one seemed home, would you swing the door wide open ready to explore it all? As you would enter I’m curious to what you would see, would you first take notice that it isn’t exactly clean? Would your eyes first be drawn to the love and happiness spread across the wall, or instead would you first notice the cobwebs hanging here and there? Would you then climb spiral staircase climbing them as they creaked to the top, were my private bedroom was lying at the center of it all? Surrounded by windows on all four sides, would you head to the one overlooking a garden one of a kind. Would you be drawn out like a puppet on strings outside to the garden full of a grand number of things? Which path would you choose to wander down first, how about the one marked the center of my world? Further and further in would you go to you reached the very middle and low and behold. Here towers a giant angel statue marked with nothing but love, written underneath it reads RIP to the most beloved grandma who ever walked the earth. Would you be moved to tears or feel the underlying feeling of hurt used to build the memorial in my world? As your tour came to an end…. Would you have a better understanding of who I actually am beneath the skin?