You sound better in poetry.
You look better in pictures.
You smell better in dreams.
You feel better in flashbacks.
My poetry dresses up your flaws and covers your imperfections.
I like you better after I’ve dissected your personality, stripped it of everything I hate and erased the memory of all the things you’ve done to hurt me.
But your presence isn’t so kind, it completely destroys everything I did with my mind.
Reminding me of all the nights I cried.
You sound better in poetry,
I’d do anything to keep you there.