If I was an artist
I’d paint him on my heart
Keep it stored properly so no one could damage it
Restore it as needed and always keep its integrity

As important as the original Mona Lisa to me
He’d sit in my gallery
The only painting there to see
And in all honesty he’s all I need  

But I am no artist
So instead I finger paint him with forever paints
And cry when I realize it was for naught
Ruining him and making his colors across me

Forever his stains sit upon me
No matter how many showers or scrubbings I do
I can’t get him off my mind
I painted him in forever colors that was a mistake too

I’m afraid that one day his stains will be on another
he’s already left an entire painting on another’s heart
A huge one you can see on the outside of her body
It’s not fading at all and what am I to do

He has her painting on him too
So I sit like a child watching two artists love each other
From afar, how dare I interfere in their work
I crawl back to my window

I keep drawing him on my soul
Never wanting to forget
But it’s in pencil and I can’t find my paintbrush
He’s taken it to paint with her instead