Don’t Compare Me To Your F****** Ex, Please

 
Was I dirty?
soiled by the memory of past lovers
who left you black and blue?
Was I so deadly, love?
were all my endeavors,  
my words and my actions
nothing at all?
 
I’m so used to being used
somethings becoming nothings
memories mean nothing
and neither does the truth
 
Was I oppressive?
did I smother your light
as she did to you?  
I’m not sorry  
for being so defensive..
 
When you measured me
to the way her artist’s fingers
strummed the music of her brush  
into spirals of doubt
lacing watercolor with poison
and washing her tools  
in your blood and tears
in the fears she outlined
somewhere in your pained soul
somewhere in the way  
she burned her canvas
and took everything but you
 
No, I’m not sorry
nor will I apologize for her
instead I will apologize once more
 
For not doing enough
 
Not my body nor my mind
and never my heart  
or every bit of truth
I poured into my hands
when I held your face  
and said,
“You’re enough”
 
Was enough
 
I couldn’t fix what was broken
but with some rudimentary talent
scrapped together through  
the basic knowledge of art
I had painted you a path  
through the nightmare  
the fingers of her wicked soul twisted  
into the garden of earthly delights
 
If only..
 
You didn’t feel the need  
to compare me,
place me and weigh me
next to your fucking ex wife