I thought I made a masterpiece.
I selected the perfect canvas,
Bought the best paints,
And I picked the most beautiful subject- and still I failed.

The canvas broke in nine white, splintery pieces.
The paint chipped and the rich, browns, mahoganies, reds, and blacks crumbled in the open air.
My subject- he wasn’t happy and wouldn’t smile and I couldn’t convince him to stop moving.

So many times I’ve tried to make a masterpiece of you, of us, but I fail every single time.
You open your mouth and venomous snakes leap out spitting and cursing at me.
I tried to bite my tongue and keep quiet.
I tried to say dove-like words that would be peaceful, kind and loving but I could never close the poisonous wounds you have opened.
But I could never get you to say you loved me.

I thought maybe you had the wrong prescription so I bought you new glasses.
But you never saw me the way I needed you to.
I could never get you to see my love.

I thought you were hurt, so I tried to heal you but you could never heal me.

I’m sweeping the pieces into a pile and dumping them in the trash where they belong.

I’m going to the store to buy a new canvas and paints and maybe, just maybe while I’m there I’ll see another subject for my masterpiece.