I was an artist
You were my muse
An endless canvas of shades and hues
I set my paintbrush down
The day your love for me died
It lies amongst other things I can’t seem to get right

Sometimes when I’m feeling brave I find myself dipping back into paints
Making attempts to reconstruct my heart
Paint a new one that won’t fade

But the brush is always dry
The canvas always blank
My mind is always thinking
And my heart is always maimed

So I tore up all my canvas
Let my paints run down the drain
This time I’ll put pen to paper
A new way to spell out my mistakes.