The Loneliest Gallery

I look up at the white walls towering above,

Like a warm blanket, I'm covered in the safety of my home,

The grand gallery doors lay ajar with a cool breeze drifting out,

My once haven now cold, the place I could spend hours, now deserted,

As I peer in, I see the unfocused male standing in guilt,

Surrounding him were the canvases that lay bare, our story having ended early,

Tears started to well at their sight.

.

The well-known man with the forgotten face,

Drowning the world out and letting the drops fall from my eyes,

Overwhelming silence allows my attention,

The overbearing man softening his movements as our eyes met,

Standing in what was once our gallery, the bare figure,

Remembering his stance, his stare, his scent,

Maybe he's come back for me; a stupid thought flickered into the gallery.

.

Realisation crashing down on me,

The man who drew pain, sang hurt and learned trauma,

I can never have him back; sobbing, I turned to our paintings

Pictures tainted by his painted pain,

A single brush stroke he made through our treasured gallery,

Forcing it into black despair.

.

The beating thumping quicker, drawing close, rising panic,

Consumed in the echo of the gallery, he had trapped me again,

The Persistence of Memory taking control, and I could only watch in horror,

I drown in the fragments of my life: as they slide off the canvases, being wiped clean of me,

Losing control of my safe space as I saw him turn.

.

His paint mixing with what was once ours,

Erupting out the gallery doors, followed by the stream of tears and hurt,

Flooding the halls of my palace, as his betrayal took everything I held dear,

The beating ever faster, rumbling down the corridors, shaking my existence,

The strength forced me to my knees in submission to the approaching dark figure.

.

Focus to escape,

Think, not remember,

Breath deepens and slows, almost nonexistent,

Agony shooting through my muscles as I shot through the exit,

The gallery collapsed, a ruin of sanctity, but never taking my love for him,

A love so clearly never to be returned,

Beating still thundering in my ears, slowing with my calmness,

His voice echoed through the palace, a song I cannot escape.

.

He fades from my mind; I'm ready to rebuild my safety,

His learned trauma passed through the palace, creating large dashes through the stone,

Dashes travelling down to the ground, ready to be passed to the next generation,

Ready to change how I parent, how I live, how I see the world,

The law-like trauma dictates me, inserting itself into every aspect of my life.

.

My gallery's gone, but the resources are there to rebuild, just for me, just for my eyes,

My palace can be fortified; if they can't enter, they can't take it from me,

The trauma is irreparable but cannot be used to learn,

I know how to prevent it; I can escape it,

He will never come in again, he will never be seen again,

I will remove him, and I will do better.