You wrote about me
As if I were some kind of beautiful tragedy
And it makes me wonder
Who and what I was to you.
Whoever, whatever woman you wrote about before
She's not any of those fables anymore.
You no longer know the intricacies
The beauty of my pain
The pain I once confused
As love and adoration for you.
You'll never find another woman,
You'll never find another spirit,
You'll never find another entity
To reach you when you hide yourself,
To touch you outside of the physical world,
To mend you when you are a jigsaw puzzle of a man.
Not even the woman of your tales
Can do all that I can.