I am not the dust
Settled on the old letters I wrote to you.
I am the ash that remained.
After setting your heart ablaze.

I am not the coffee mug
That you've had for years now
I'm the fresh coffee you make every morning
Holding your head steady
Making you crave me at those odd 3 ams.

I'm not your favourite tshirt
I'm the mirror you stare into
When you wear it, everytime
Smiling to yourself
Smiling at me.

I'm not your favorite song
I'm that song you don't like much
But you sing it, anyway
For the lyrics,they hit you in a different way.

I'm not the paintings you make
They're way too perfect to be me
I'm that ol' dull brush
Used too many times
Dipped in colors
To sway like your mind on the canvas
Painting perfect sunsets and smiles.

I'm not the book you read
I'm the story they wrote
Every word is about me
Meant to be read for you.

I'm not the roses you love
I'm the flower pot, holding them close
Watching them fluoresce
To wither away...