Plaster Lungs

I want to breathe in you, but instead all I taste are the fumes of my paint that I can't scrub from underneath my dirty fingernails. I want you by my side, but instead it is the dirty water I keep next to me to clean the brushes I use to paint my empty feelings on that blank canvas that stares back at me, expressionless and cold Much like you did that night when you lied to me and told me you loved me. And I breathed in your lies like the fumes from the spray paint I use to cover the hole you left in my chest. I dig my fingers into the clay the same way I dug them into my arms that night when I laid awake in my bed screaming in my own head trying to tell myself that I wasn't broken. I wasn't broken like the wire I twist with pliers around in spirals to create a body that I might not despise I take the tools and carve away layer after layer to create a pattern I can cast. I could create more and more from all that you stripped from me. When you became everything I had and it was ripped from me. And now I use the mold to cast more and more of me to give to those who need a piece. And I lie discarded much like the pattern you stripped when I was ripped from the mold I use to create the cast to pretend that I am a gift