I wanted you to teach me that red isn't just a colour with primary details. I wanted you to teach me the that you can reverse the roles to get a vivid purple.
But all you taught me is that teaching me how to love again is a diluted intention with diverted distractions; creating the ultimate demolishment of time. I wanted you to remind me that my flesh tickles to the sound of your calling. Now, you paralyze this thought and hold a new one to each breath. It's hard to see you move on so quickly.
Absurdity lies in the thought that I was touched but never polished. Your attempt was clear, your intentions felt fear and for that I am truly sorry. However, you were only temporary as a gift to myself.
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II
All you ever knew how to do was to suck me dry and rob me of who I am. I feed on sadness because of you. I hold on to sadness because it shows me that I can still feel something authentic. Happiness or any other feeling just feels tired and forced. I couldn't blame you though. I shouldn't have let my guard down. I shouldn't have let you shape me like how I shaped you. Sculpting each other to make a masterpiece. To each his own. When did you lose passion for art to watch and let your sculpture fall and shatter; scattered on uneven grounds? When did you feel so ashamed of that art piece that you'd let someone walk all over the pieces with their dirty shoes. Maybe you didn't think I was the masterpiece. Maybe I simply wanted you to see that I was. Maybe I wanted you to see in me what I saw in you.
By Jonathan Pearce5 years ago in Poets
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