The misty skies reflected your eyes and the stars were all but brilliant.
The sound of the harp played the song of your heart and the angel of death was resilient.
You held our your hands and begged for a dance with the goddess of love and war.
She pushed you aside and shattered your pride and ran through your heart with her sword.

You used to remind me of a stained glass window. Your colors shone brightly from the sunlight that came from your smile. And I admired your beauty for so long without realizing that you were just a bunch of broken pieces.
You used to remind me of home. I would fall asleep in your arms and your kiss was like my morning cup of coffee. I had never felt more safe than when I was with you. We built a house stronger than stone, and no one cared to tell me that even things that are supposed the be fire proof can burn down.
You used to remind me of the ocean. You had depths that I would never discover. So much life and mystery. And just like the ocean, you had dark corners that couldn't be explored. And just like the ocean, you took my breath away, and I drowned in you.
You used to remind me of beauty.
You used to remind me of security.
You used to remind me of wonder.
But now when I look at you, all I can see is your burning eyes at 3am and all I can hear is your cruel words and all I can feel are your harsh blows and all I can taste is a ****** goodbye pouring from my busted lips. And all I'm reminded of is your image in my head being shattered like the glass in your stained glass window, and the fire swallowing our home, and the ocean pushing me deeper and deeper out of love.

I screamed for you until my vocal chords broke like the strings of an underused guitar.
Your name climbing out of my mouth scratched the walls of my throat and took my voice away.
And I held on to sanity for as long as I could, but it's hard to grasp something that's just small enough to slip between the cracks of your fingers.
And now I know that no matter how thoughtfully you hang your mind on the coat rack before you go to sleep, when you wake up in the morning, sometimes you still can't find it.
I clawed at the dirt trying to find the pieces of me that your buried, and punched the trees to make sure they weren't hollow, but all I found when I looked at my hands was ***** fingernails and ****** knuckles.
And I never understood chemistry, but I know that you and I weren't supposed to erupt like this.
You broke me into a million pieces,
And had the audacity to look me in the eyes and tell me to clean up the mess.
And good god, what a mess it was.