Sandpaper

You were like sandpaper
On these old, chalky walls.
One stroke and I would flake.
Dissipate.
And I thought for a moment
It was healing
That someone was finally
Taking the time
To replace
What need to be
But the longer and deeper
You started to rub
The more I realised
That you
Had no mind
To paint me beautiful
Colours.
You chiseled all of the
Covering I had left
And left me
Naked, surrounded by a
Pile of powder
The timeless and thin
Substance
Which I once loathed
But it was all that composed
This now raw and deserted
Heart.