The perfect picture 

The pieces of what once used to be a perfect picture peeled,

carried away by the gentle breeze we loved,

little by little, unraveling a lesser image, ugly even


I still see you and I, but on opposite ends of the frame,

separated by an ocean of nothingness

I can try to swim to you, but how do I swim through nothing


I can wait, and possibly the only thing I can do

or I can turn away and forever deny this ugly image

and hold on dearly to the pretty image that used to be


That is easy, and I know the sky will clear up soon

But forever is a daunting thought,

and a lifetime of denial is sad

I want to face you,

even if it’s just your back 

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