I wish there was a word beyond “sad”
Because three letters cannot capture
The way my heart breaks and bends every time you enter my mind

Can’t you see
It’s not you who is the issue
It’s me

“Don’t ruin my artwork”
He said to me when I was still his canvas
But he grew less fond of my colors, now dull
My blues to greys
Fading away
The white washed over me
And I was no longer his masterpiece

You made your way into my dreams again last night
I no longer try to fight it
Your presence, however ethereal, makes me warm
And by the morning sun from me you’re torn

I miss you like the wind does the leaves
But when spring comes, once again they will meet