It was time to turn the page on you
It was time to close the scrap book we've made
And give it to everyone to analyze
Even then I pinned a nice last picture of you
One that painted you perfect
One in which your eyes glistened with love as you looked at me.
I couldn't dare to tell the truth.
No picture would ever do the cruelty justice.
No photo would ever depict the misery you inflicted.
No sketch and no drawing would ever be able to highlight the indifference.
The coldness.
The resentment that had rose in you
And the vengence you had out for me, as if I were your enemy.
And even if there was,
I loved you too much to show them.
I loved you too much to tarnish the image they had of you.
It was one of purity, passion, care and better come-backs.
I once had that picture embedded within my mind as well.
Within my mind, heart, soul and being.
But you drove a hammer and a dagger and a billion knives into it
Until there was nothing left of it but pieces!!
Pieces that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't paste back together.
But they didn't see you that way.
They didn't see what I have been seeing
They saw what I used to see...a long long time ago.
It was a beautiful memory that didn't seem fair to ruin.
So I let them have it.
I re-inforced it with that nice last picture of you,
Making them believe I was irrational
And you were a victim...
Carrying in my heart a hundred truths
About a hundred forms of pain
And a hundred shapes of cruelty
And a hundred broken promises
About a single person.
A single person who I painted perfect because no matter how hard I tried,
No painting would ever do his horrors justice.