That Doesn't Make Him Your Man

You can put up all his pictures
Until your walls are covered with his charm

You can saturate your superstition
With all the warmth he can carry
In his arms

You can douse your life in lies
You can pick yourself up
You can tell yourself he's there
When you're both making love

But that doesn't make you enough for him
That won't make you good enough for him

And that doesn't make him your man

You can make up a past
That outlasts the three months
Since he's been around

You can create inside jokes
And funny stories
And photo albums
And silly things

You can bury him alive
In your texts and calls
You can make him everything
Out of nothing at all

You can put on all his rings
And sing to him every night

But that won't make it right
But that won't make it real
But that won't make it feel better
Than how it feels right now

And that doesn't make him your man

It doesn't change the absence in his eyes
It doesn't transform the presence of another
The marks I left on him
The parts I took from him
The heart I left beating inside of his chest
All you got was the rest
And the rest ain't a man
Not at all

So have a ball
With whatever's still there
See if there's enough left
To care about

Dress it up all you want
In your poems and prayers
But you still understand

That don't make him good
That don't make him pure
That don't make him what he was before

And kid, that doesn't make him--

And don't you see, you can't make him

You're faking it
You're faking it
You're faking the whole damn thing

And faking won't make him
Your man