I pried myself open to allow you a peek inside, and like a child in a museum you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, leaving your mark on every exposed piece of me. I didn’t care that you were leaving your ***** finger prints on my glass frames because at least you cared enough to look at them all. I never stopped to think how harmful this could be. That when the sun had set, and it was closing time, you would soon leave me vacant again though your imprints would remain. You left just enough of yourself behind to make me want you, but not enough to let me keep you.