It's a canvas,

This life of mine

For me to do as I wish

The experiences, the moments

All leave their own little lines

In the end however

It's not the little lines that count

The good and the bad, they form a picture

And my picture would have been good

If it weren't for you

It was pretty, it was bright,

But for the dark line you left through the middle

I tried to cut you out

I tried to throw you away

But I can't ever remove you without destroying my canvas

Destroying myself