Pieces Of A Broken Heart

Color Me Red

My heart was a canvas of pure, untouched white,
A blank slate awaiting love's colorful light.
Then you came and painted in passionate strokes,
Vibrant hues that stirred my deepest spokes.

Reds of desire, orange's of charm,
Yellows beaming with the sun's fond warmth.
Splashing my spirit in such pretty shades,
A kaleidoscope of feelings you made.

But then the colors started shifting dark,
Crimsons of anger leaving their mark.
Ugly splatters of pain's muddy brown,
As the bright beauty began draining down.

You colored outside the heart's borders, you see,
Staining parts of me that were never meant to be.
Your brushstrokes grew harsh, manic, and wild,
Tainting more of the canvas you compiled.

What was once a lush meadow turned arid plain,
The garden of pain you helped cultivate, soon waned.
Until all that remained was an aggressive red mess,
A heart bled dry from the love you did possess.

Now this tarnished and spoiled artwork,
Is grayscale misery on full stark.
You used me as your palette for much too long,
The painting's now ruined, the colors all wrong.

So paint me in lifeless, bloody crimson shades,
Since that's all that's left when true love fades.
A heart of vibrancy, now dull and cold,
The only bright flicker...the path I unfold.