Perfect

Curtains dance with whispers in the wind,      
My easel stands, where a painting begins.      
In the silence of the night, I find my peace,      
Finally free, my soul’s sweet release.      
   
He let me go before we could bind,      
A love unspoken, etched in my mind.      
A beautiful memory, forever to keep,      
His strength in one word, so gentle, so deep.      
   
I wonder, had he stayed silent never responding,      
Would I have continued to wear a mask,    
Pretending all was okay?      
Late-night battles, cocaine rage      
My sanity crumbled, consumed by desire.      
   
Slaps to the face, bruises on skin,      
I thought I deserved the pain within.      
Was it wrong to reach out, a lifeline to find,      
When the ring on my finger still bound me?      
   
I was drowning, gasping for air,      
He spoke, and courage filled despair.      
His conversation gave me the strength to leave,      
For that, I’ll always be grateful, I believe.      
   
Now, with the night still young and still,      
I pick up my brush, and time stands still.      
The painting, unfinished, starts to take form,      
As I heal, as I weather the storm.      
   
He may never know how deep he reached,      
But in my heart, his kindness is preached.      
It all began with one simple word:      
"Perfect." A message that healed, unheard.    
   
NP