You were a statement,
a brick wall,
covered in small pieces of graffiti,
lost in a noisy city.
Barely noticed.

So you changed.
You tore yourself down,
giving away pieces
to anyone who would take them
destroying the subtle art.

I had to leave,
unable to stand the gravel
of you at my feet,
like a part of me
was in that rubble.

They all noticed you then
a small glimpse from the corner
of their eyes,
no one pays attention
to a neon jumble.

When I came back
you had lost all but three
spray painted pieces,
no matter how much I tried
I couldn't recreate you

Nothing will live
in the broken space
you once occupied completely,
so I walked away for good
You are not salvageable.