I won't paint you

I had a dream about a painting, it was mesmerizing, and I couldn't get myself to even try to replicate it for fear of ruining the only perfect thing my mind had ever conjured up...

I won't paint you
You're beautiful
Too much so
And I'm flawed
I won't color you in my mistakes
I won't immortalize a lesser version of yourself
And you're perfect
In every way
In ways I could never be
Or understand
Or capture
Not with my hands
They're not enough
Inadequate
But you
You're perfect
I can try
I may come close
But it'll never matter
If it's not you, then it's not right
The closer I get
The more fury I'll feel
Because no matter how hard I try
I'll always be inches behind
Inches become miles
And you're so far
And I'm just here, making you wrong
Clawing, with nails, with teeth
Through my glasshouse
Where my vices reside in me
Around me
Chasing you with all that I'll never have to catch you
Getting closer, but never there, never perfect
So no
I won't paint you
I could never do you justice
I will hate you
For being perfect
Unreachable
For giving me hope
And throwing my failures in my face
Twofold
Tenfold
A million times over
Relentlessly
I'll paint you badly
Grotesque
It'll drive me mad
Bitter, tragic, sad
With every brushstroke that goes awry
I'll hate you
I'll hate myself
I won't paint you
Stay forever perfect
In isolation
Stand alone
Amongst my wreckage
I'll fingerpaint stick figures with blood
And you
Forever unattainable
Forever not in my hands
Never painted