Poems and stuff

What I am

What am I to you?
A question I keep asking myself,
Only filled with doubtless answers,
Crammed with half-assed descriptions,
And shoved with self-insults
I kept thinking
And the most irrelevant pictures came to mind
That's when I realized what I was,
What I was and what I still am to myself
I am the roar of a forest fire
The chill up your spine
The wind racing through the trees
A black cat's soft purr
The sound of piano keys being pounded on
The sun shining after a storm
The feeling of sinking your hand into uncooked rice
Driving on a newly paved road
Shooting a gun for the first time
The smoke from a long drag
The smell of roses
The taste of blood
Lighting a candle in a dark room
Running outside with no clear destination
The light of the moon on a starry night
Plucking petals off a flower
That's what I am
That's what I'll always be