Expectations

Painted this elaborate portrait
of what I thought love should be.
Placed all the pieces just so,
to fit all of my needs.
Made room for some allowances,
since people are imperfect.
Then you strolled into my picture
and almost everything was perfect.
The distance wasn't planned but,
it was something I could work through.
Some of your quirks weren't planned but,
I thought "Hey, that' just you."
We seemed a perfect match the way
everything seemed to line up.
Then you ripped down my portrait
and light it on fire.
I watched it burn as tears fell
and hit the dry, hard ground.
Watched you pick up the pieces and
scatter them all around.
I tried to tell myself it was okay.
I was being to restraining.
Said we could still make it work.
But you just walked away.
Now, I have no guidelines to follow.
No way to fix this mess.
No plans for my future now,
I'm just cold, hurt, and depressed.
No matter how many times I paint it again;
it will never be like the first.
I can't create that splendid image
of what I wished love to be.
That's why I allowed you to come back,
drag me around on this leash,
because every time I'd try to
recreate what you destroyed;
the main focus of my once, pretty
Masterpiece
was always you.