Monday, 7 November 2016

Canvas of a man - 07.11.16

I was your one love,
I made you a future, and we gave it breath.
We raised up and above, and grew
to enslave ourselves. Chained together.
Nothing is terrible. Nothing could be a lie.
Never I haven't cried.

Time was a poison in my mind,
it took hold and ripped away at me.
All I had was your hand,
and I gripped it as hard as I could.
I've never been strong enough,
and now I'm just 'your past'.

I became the scattering of ash,
that memory of what was once.
You locked me away, let me wither
and die, until you had, had enough.
Now I'm falling from your hands,
the wind will carry me away.

I was only ever a memory.
I was only always a dream.
A figment a figure a fiction,
of a real man.
Of the person you needed just then.
I was never real.

Now I sit around lonely,
I'm waiting for another she.
Her eyes- cast vision upon my flesh,
her mouth- to create my memories.

I'm just an empty canvas.

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