Abstract/Construct

I scratched you out and
painted you in and
burned you down,
and still your face is imprinted
on every part that used
to be mine and disappeared
like morning mist.
At first the memory of you
was white and whimsical,
a shining dot amidst
a vacancy I feared to name.
Then the edges started turning grey,
spreading color like desease,
like a dying leaf that will
fall off the tree and get
blown away.
Then came the black,
almost like a relief, but sharper, wilder, connected and
disconnected from a reality
I no longer missed.
You grew from the beginning
of everything to a wilderness
I could never control
with the strength of my memory
alone,
so I let you fester and gnaw,
break through all the barriers
and into the window
of a craving so strong, it overwrote
the misery you used to dish out
like dripping paint on
a starved canvas.
Then, all at once the paint dried,
cracked and chipped away.
On the canvas,
in methodical disarray,
all that was left were
us. We lay holding hands
and whispering words of promise
and love,
words of compassion that never
found us out of bed.
The next day, I dragged
the canvas, heavy and bulky,
to the street corner
to face the elements.