​My Picture

I held it close
The picture of my home

Lumps of paint
Long since withered
Marred it 
Drawing attention away from the blue house
And still
I held it close

Tears that dropped seemed quaint
Fell to my home and slithered
Marred it
Filling it with something like sadness
And still
I held it close

I held it close
Without a pause
And it protected me
From any fear, or blame or dread
I held it over my head
And let the world go on around me
As I sat waiting for glee
And still
I held it close

But the paint started to peel
And it is peeling now
Peeling when I sleep
And it is peeling day after day
Peeling when I see their faces

And I am begging it to stop
Begging the paint to hold
Even if it was only a picture
Even if it was never real
And still it peels

My tears are streaming
And still it peels
I cover it with my body
Protect it 
From any fear, or blame, or dread
Letting the world go on around it
And still it peels

And I fear the day
When nothing is left
It is everything I want to protect
And still it peels