You chiseled paper with graphite
In an attempt to draw the raw essence of me,
And in my honey soaked mind
The precision of your work made me think
Just by chance, that meant you knew me well
I reveled in being your subject of attention
Seeing the fruits of your work in my image,
Until my form was exhausted
And you moved to a new subject
You're an artist
Not a partner,
You take until your object of obsession
Can no longer give
And continue onto newer forms
With energies not yet drained
Until you're done with them
Because you still haven't learned
Your subject matter matters
*You are worth more than what someone can gain from you*
YOU ARE READING
She Felt Like Home
PuisiOriginal Poetry Collection: We don't get to choose who we love, or when we stop loving those who don't treat our hearts quite right. And sometimes, we don't get to change the fact that even if they weren't the one they still felt like home. And it's...
