You called yourself Art,
What an understatement for a masterpiece.

And I wept for what we used to be.
When he was my muse
and I his poet.
Everyone knew us to be immortal.
And then
                      we  
                                         fell.

I stared at her.
And it felt like I couldn't feel my heart.
It felt like fireworks and trips to the aquarium. It tasted like popcorn and melted chocolate. It felt like all my favorite songs playing at once.
It smelled like smoke and dust.
It was overwhelmingly perfect

Here is my head,
You can fill it with whatever you want.
Here are my hands,
You can hold them anytime you'd like.
Here are my lips,
You can kiss them whenever you want.
Here is my heart,
You can break it when you leave.

They couldn't tell where she began and I ended.
Our lines blurred together
spilling over our skin.
Ruining us for anyone else.

I know you left.
But
I'd pick you
Every time.

It wrapped around me like a hug.
Digging into my shoulder blades
and resting on my ribcage.

I traced his lips
and breathed him in
oxygen to a fire he could not control.
we burned into ash.

"Teach me," She whispered against my lips.
And maybe she meant love.
Grand gestures of admiration and stories that end with happily ever after.
But I taught her how to hate instead.

The taste of you remains on my lips.
Your broken promises still stain my skin.
At night
I look at them
and 
cry

Only you.

Arching against him,
I let him feel my skin.
I let him brand me with his touch,
and I loved it.