If you are the very reason that I awake
From a deep and torturous slumber every morning;
If you are the rays of light to my sun;
If you are the goosebumps to my low temperature;
If you are the skin of the apple that I had for lunch on Wednesday;
If you are the soles of my shoes;
If you are the dust underneath my bed that is really just dead, old skin;
If you are the breath of life that a lifeguard gives a drowning victim;
If you are the fire coursing through my veins making its way into my heart;
If you are the demon and angel on my shoulders,
Bickering about my choosing the road less traveled by;
If you are the pen to my poetry;
If you are the frostbite left on my fingers from waiting out in the cold too long For you to come back;
If you are the edge of a butterfly's wings flapping past me aiming for my palms;
If you are the love of my life;
Then what am I?
The right answer, is
I Am Everything To Myself
And Nothing To You.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
If you are the very reason that I awake
From a deep and torturous slumber every morning;
If you are the rays of light to my sun;
If you are the goosebumps to my low temperature;
If you are the skin of the apple that I had for lunch on Wednesday;
If you are the soles of my shoes;
If you are the dust underneath my bed that is really just dead, old skin;
If you are the breath of life that a lifeguard gives a drowning victim;
If you are the fire coursing through my veins making its way into my heart;
If you are the demon and angel on my shoulders,
Bickering about my choosing the road less traveled by;
If you are the pen to my poetry;
If you are the frostbite left on my fingers from waiting out in the cold too long For you to come back;
If you are the edge of a butterfly's wings flapping past me aiming for my palms;
If you are the love of my life;
Then what am I?
The right answer, is
I Am Everything To Myself
And Nothing To You.
