Emptiness is inescapable
Like a virus with no cure it infests the soul
And grows beyond its host
Surrounding it until the person can see nothing
Nothing but itself

The girl is infested
She uses her closet to grieve her infestation
What can she do now
Nothing.
But hurt

People created this emptiness
Promises left unkept
Lies told through meaningless lips
Words of caring tossed and faked until one believes
Only to be snatched back

She opened her window for a boy
The window she came to hate but was really protecting her
Protecting her from the dangers of feelings
She didn’t know she could feel
She let him in

She let him get close
They laughed and spoke about everything
her mistake was realizing too late to push him away
He had already done the damage
Had he not realized how fragile she was?

Had he realized what his words made her feel?
Like hot cinnamon cocoa by the fire his lies
Warmed her, made her feel welcome
Only to be thrown back into the blizzard
After forgetting how to survive

What does she do now?
Well she freezes to death
The girl finds comfort in such a thought
To end it all
Her breath becomes white. And then nothing at all

If I was an artist
I’d paint him on my heart
Keep it stored properly so no one could damage it
Restore it as needed and always keep its integrity

As important as the original Mona Lisa to me
He’d sit in my gallery
The only painting there to see
And in all honesty he’s all I need  

But I am no artist
So instead I finger paint him with forever paints
And cry when I realize it was for naught
Ruining him and making his colors across me

Forever his stains sit upon me
No matter how many showers or scrubbings I do
I can’t get him off my mind
I painted him in forever colors that was a mistake too

I’m afraid that one day his stains will be on another
he’s already left an entire painting on another’s heart
A huge one you can see on the outside of her body
It’s not fading at all and what am I to do

He has her painting on him too
So I sit like a child watching two artists love each other
From afar, how dare I interfere in their work
I crawl back to my window

I keep drawing him on my soul
Never wanting to forget
But it’s in pencil and I can’t find my paintbrush
He’s taken it to paint with her instead