I'm terrified that you
Are falling in love
With the idea of me,
That the masterpiece
Your mind has painted
Far surpasses the reality
Of its subject.

When you see each
Glaring imperfection,
The incongruent lines
That shape my body,
The speckled skin
That litters my frame,
Perhaps you'll realize that
This canvas was flawed all along.

Past the impressionist blur of color
So thickly laced with
Your dreams,
There am I,
A harsh form
Captured in still life.
An incomplete charcoal sketch.

It could be that
You've simply
Never been one for realism
And I'm just
"The Girl with a Pearl Earring"
When you always wanted
"Starry Night"

Is this feeling too premature
To say the three words
That dance on the tip of my tongue?
I can't help but wonder
If this same phrase lingers
Behind your lips
Like a timid child,
Simply waiting to be sure enough
To emerge from its hiding place.

The colors start to fade
Just as quickly as they came
And the light that lit my eyes
Is dimmed with dark shadows.
I'm holding on so tightly
To this fragile orb of hope
But I can feel it begin to crack
Beneath my fingers,
Growing smaller with each
Grain of sand
That falls in the hourglass.

What a cruel joke to play
On a girl whose heart was
Already so scarred.
To shine a light at the end
Of a darkened tunnel
Only to ***** it out
Before the threshold.
To reach out a hand
As she drowned
Only to push her further
Into the murky water,
Though she'd only just found
The strength to resurface
And feel the sunlight
On her skin.

I'm not sure what this feeling is
Blossoming in my chest,
But I know this for certain:
That I want it
To stay.