Red, as the deepest rose in a bloom of spring like the blood that runs through my being like the light inside the tower for men at sea your touch creates a safe haven for me
Dust, clouded and floating through the air like a part of the Earth that didn't bother to care like the way a fire sparkles through a dead night you are just the correct type of write
Fragmented and broken in a universe of chaotic distrust like a brand new bike with a slight bit of rust like joy that only comes when you're in my hand no need for an audience, you are my biggest fan
A song to be belted from the top of a mountain high like the coarse, bristly hairs my fingers slip by like the tissues that have wiped so many tears you are the only one who will ever understand my wants and fears
And love, the sweetest, most innocent, and pure kind like the first opening of a newborn's eyes like the moment you realize your purpose in life you are the only one I feel I will ever do write by
So here's to you, my dearest friend- my pen, you are why I am who I am.