"Painted"

I painted my way back from you, each stroke a memory, each color a bruise, but the canvas bled with echoes of you, dripping with a love I could never refuse. Tainted by your touch, I clawed my way out, fingernails stained with remnants of us, dragging myself from the ruins we built, breathing in air laced with lies. Brick by brick, I rose again, hands raw from shaping something new, no longer a masterpiece of sorrow, but a portrait painted in hues of truth.