You make me see the world in a whole other light.
A garage door. To some it is square and brown. But to you, it is a shelter for critters and weeds creeping through the cracks in the pavement.
An old stairwell. Concrete, solid, no shimmer to its coat. But to you, it pulls down secrets stocked in family vaults, carries laughter up each step and illuminates the hope of what will be between the levels.
A broken window. Useless, lifeless and a bother to restore. But to you, the panes are winking eyes, the empty hole in the glass a gap tooth smile, a person who has exposed his vulnerability underneath a scratched skin.
And me. I see myself in muted interest, hair that won’t stay where it’s supposed to and a girl who gives and gives but can never take. But to you, I am a treasure laced in mystery, a sculpture in a gallery your fingers itch to trace but cannot cross over the paper-pulled divider, the one who leads you towards every avenue you’ve been terrified to try.