Brush Strokes

With every stroke of that imaginary brush you think I use to paint my world perfect, You seem blind to all the important tears and rips that you caused my world to have in it. No picture is ever truly perfect, how many times do you think the canvas has had to be wiped clean? I know the canvas of my world has been many times due to your words of anger, your actions of mean. A picture can be made to appear to have a dark side, just as it can appear to be full of light, It's all how a person perceives the strokes of the artist, which is your God given right. But what you don't see is the truth that has lead the artists to paint the world which you question, The meaning behind my painting has never been to make a choice of who to love and who to abandon. To assume that 'I have moved on without you' is the theme of my so called grand picture of a world, Just tells me that you haven't even thought of the grand picture you yourself so claim to hold. You claim you are the one who has held my hearts as they sit there and cry, trying to explain to them the why's, But did you even think of telling them the truth of all the nasty, cruel things you have said, or of your spoken lies? You are the reason behind most of the why's, I paint these strokes on the canvas the way I do, You are the one who without thought has posted things about me which are only half true. I am so tired of being made out to be the reason for all my hearts problems, as you pretend to be picture perfect, But I am not the one who has tried pulling the wool over everyone's eye's, trying to convince them that your the victim. You accuse me of befriending you just to use you, of doing things on purpose just to hurt you, of being lower than dirt. But what you don't realize is the fact that I hold back on some of the strokes, just so you don't get hurt. So, remember this, it is not a grand picture in which I paint, nor is it me turning my back, I brush with strokes which you question, to give my hearts everything which they lack.