Love is an art that is mastered by few
Who are loyal and cherish their canvas.
They can bring colour wherever they choose-
True love is a rare, beautiful practice.
They paint their love with pink, blooming roses
Or on a hill, gazing at the heavens.
Paintings filled with romantic proses-
Love, an unattainable possession.
See, I have been loved by someone before.
She gave no loyalty or care to me.
Her palette was as dark as her core-
I felt no such love that artists decree
She painted bare rose bushes, primed with thorns.
On me, she painted with blacks, blues, and reds.
The only freedom I had was to mourn
For my old life and the safety I had left.
For five months, I stayed within her restraints-
And to this day, her love still leaves me drained.