When we met, my eyes were green with envy with how
you looked at her.
You soon stained the white that was my innocence.
You fell for the way my blood would race red when our
skins would connect.
The pulsing of my breath and the flushing pink of my lips.
My body would light up so bright that we didn’t need the
moonlight to find our way through the sheets.

Your bedroom had become our own personal canvas.
My heart had melted with yours and I was drenched in
your colours.
Never had I thought that my shade would match perfectly
with your own.
You were Michelangelo dipping you paintbrush and
splashing the walls with our sinful chapel.

After the storm comes the rainbow but after the rainbow
came the darkness.
All the colours we had shared, you locked them up in a box.
You contoured and erased.
You highlighted and brushed.
Soon enough, our love was nothing but dried up paint.

I was a bursting rainbow and you were a sponge soaking
up every droplet of my tints and hues.
With every kiss, with every touch, with every moan, with
every rush.
You sketched the walls of my heart with lies and false
promises that begun to fade the minute you saw her outlines.

I was no longer your Mona Lisa put on display for the world
to see.
I was the forgotten art piece tucked far away for my portrait
held too much guilt for you to bear.
I had left space for you in my heart but you only left space
for me on your wall of art.
For I will ever be is an extra space in your gallery.


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