this window is a television
its rain drops tell me stories
like the time we spend all day inside hiding from the clouds
finding the truth in magic on my bed
this window is a television
changing channels with every moving house
the sun came out to blind my way
making the rain drops open doors to locked places
trying hard to forget
looking for peace within my music
I digest these beats like fresh milk
making my bones stronger
so they don't shattered and break at the hands of these memories
I find myself not being able to control the way your hair looks in this light
the way we stood there and held each other
until I had consumed all the sadness that you had bottled
then you left me there drunk with pain
stumbling back home
I see my heart like broken glass laying on the ground staring back at me
these shards hold deep memories of your skin
I watched it crumble to dust and float away in the breeze
this window is a television
these rain drops glistening from the sun
reminds me of the mornings in December
I wonder if anyone else understands its beauty