Never Quite Buried

.
It occurs to me that I was always in love with the ghost of you
The shadow left burnt behind by the nuclear war you raged in my mind
Left to fill the silence of the things I knew you’d say if you were here
Only it’s taken some time to realize it was never our time and you were never on time
Was it the idea..
that a man could know such romance and the soft pulls against my skin with eager teeth
Only it seemed to rip holes in my seams that only I could see?
The future before my eyes tainted with what ifs and speculation
Always a lingering thought of fingertips I’ll never feel again.
The state of mind you always left me in- barren and unforgiving.. unknowing
While you sat omniscient because I am an open book and “this one is for you”
Mapped me out.
Fairytales are real when the woman you enchanted is an artist.
Only.. I’m afraid when the night fades and the thoughts are every present in a bed full of absence..
It was simply the idea all along- created in blank spaces.
I made you my canvas and maybe it wasn’t fair to you
To be so god damn repaint-able.