The only place I know where to begin is the end,
and working my way to the start,
by breaking it down in segments
that are not so clouded and we weren't so far apart.
It's easy living with you in my mind,
controlling the scenarios by me playing your part,
but even that seems dark.
To try to control your light, the light that comes from your fire,
the fire that I knew would burn me,
but I got so caught up in all your flames
gracefully dancing around me.
In a therapeutic daze my eyes were all over you studying you,
absorbing you, just watching you burn.
By the time you were done captivating me,
you fell onto me dissipating to wherever you go when you die,
for now I'll call it the sky.
I tried grasping any part of you but
you moved right through my hands,
the hands that could of healed every inch of you.
I wish I could rebuild you,
giving you back the pieces of me that grew from you,
I wouldn't even leave out the parts you didn't like about you,
I saw that as your glue,
only problem is I wouldn't know where to start.
How can you replicate what once was a living work of art?
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