Your words carved into me like an artist carves a beautiful statue into marble. But the difference is that you're not an artist nor am I a beautiful statue.
Your hands molded me into something I can no longer recognize. Black diamonds for eyes. Black hole for a heart and prettified tree branches as limbs.
I haven't been able to love since you touched your paint brush to my clean canvas. You shredded every ounce of self worth I could muster with every lie that you could spew. You ruined my trust with every ****** into her and you ruined my life every time you looked at me.
There's no beautiful or clever way to end such a sad story like this other than in the middle of a