The painting

August 12, 2008
You were the painting
I traced my fingers over
A million times
I knew every depth
the start of every line
I breathed in the droplets
the art before my eyes
but right in front of me
that painting lost it’s light

You took me into the canvas
and I could not turn away
You dragged deeper into that portrait
as I begged for you to let me stay
You broke my heart so viciously
without the blink of an eye
and with your own two hands
you crushed my innocent life

I screamed for you to let me go
to take me back before
to that beautiful painting
with open, welcoming doors
Now the doors had chains
Locks that held me in place
and people looked in
Seeing the hateful, hurt disgrace

I broke through the colors
The picture where I was left for so long
and whenever I look back
I wonder what went wrong
Once a beautiful painting
full of such life
is now so full of hatred
surrounded by the blackness night

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