I can't quite decide how to start this.
To start moving on from this.
You have wrecked the corridors of my dreams of you.
Not by choice I should say.
So I made an incarnation of you out of:
the blossom of cherry trees,
the light of purple sunsets,
the crooked cathedral smiles in your laugh,
and the great green ponds to make your eyes.
So full of life and decay.
Your skull I found along the path;
inside your cracked motorbike helmet.
You'd forget it, if weren’t for me.
Your skin I took from the sheets of your favourite bed.
Soft and white, they wrapped the old statue of you.
I filled the marble with lemonade and blood.
From a dead deer,
and glued it together with sap,
struck down from a tree by thunderbolt last night.
It bound the objects to your made-up soul,
though pretty it was still so very sore.
It flickered its eyes,
but alas I forgot to make your hair,
So I took the form from a frozen ocean wave,
caught in a breeze.
I placed it on your head where a crown should be.
I lost your old one, its thorns now broken off and rusty.
You stood naked and alive before me.
An image I longed to see from all those memories,
I had of you.
Oh say that you can see,
my true love had finally come to me.
But I didn't need it.
I've lied to you and I created you purely so you could be taken away.
With that I pushed you away.
You looked at me with that dead frozen smile.
Your eyes gushed with sewage and rotten chemicals.
Your skin, teardrop stricken, began to rip at the seams.
The collection of bones began to snap and bend.
The blossom tree aged and became dust under the weight.
The light of the sunsets that made your soul now snuffed out.
The whimpering creatures in the shadows, reclaimed their prize.
My stupid self had been born from sadness,
so sadness it became.
But my drive for release,
killed myself and my friend.
So I made My creation become destruction
so happiness I became to thee.
An that dear reader was the end of me.