You are
Poetry.
The way your tiny, nimble fingers
Flow freely up and down the frets,
Reminds me of the way you can sing and
Get lost in a song,
Everything almost forgotten.
Reminds me of the way you could probably
Spit bars accurately like someone who
belongs,
Because everything else comes so easy;
Why not?

You are
Music.
The way you write
Seems to hum harmoniously with the tune of
Mournful sadness or
Drowned happiness.
The music of you enthralls all
Capturing, reminds me of the story you carry,
A twisted
Fairy tale,
Scribbled in scars and watercolor
Inscribed on pages of forgotten notebooks.
Trailing off, leaving a sweet, high, melodic note
Haunting
With a flourish.