I like to think of your soul as a square.
With a dusty corner, due to sad memories
that you haven't opened in a while.
   In the opposite corner, there's a vacant
cobweb just lying there because you don't
like spiders and you daren't clean it.
   In the middle, there's a bunch of live
flowers. Filled with the brightness of your
smile and the tears you cry at night.
   Slightly to the left, are the marks
where you brushed a blade across
your skin one night and tried to die.
   (I'm glad you didn't though). More
to the right is a ring your mother used
to wear around her neck before she died.
   And above, the flowers and the ring, is a
letter I gave you on our year anniversary and
despite being 5 years later. You still have it.
   With a reply from yourself, saying: *thank you
for understanding the black parts of my soul. And the only
reason the colour's showing through is because of you.