i had a thought.
i had told you, the deepest things about me. that i had never spoken to anyone.
my favorite movie comes out with a prequel
playing in theaters in a couple weeks,
my favorite, because the main character created world peace - in a world where no one was kind to her. while choosing, again and again, to love a man hardwired to hate her.
ironic.
isn’t it.
how i loved it before it became my own story.
and no one knows how much i love this series so i can’t ask anyone else to go
and i’m not hurting because i wanted to go with you and i can’t now,
how easy that would be
such a light “child like” thing to be hurt about
no.
im not hurting. i’m suffocating.
because i gave you access to the art lying within me -
not the winded down easy to digest version of me
i gave the vivid bold use of exploding oil acrylics with layers and depth
the shit that resonates
and you replaced me with water colors and crayons
so now i’ll be watching what was once something that brought me nothing but happiness. not only alone,
but with a lump in my throat
the
entire
fucking
time
because in the way you’ll never love it,
you’ll never love me.
- you could’ve lived in an art museum and instead you chose a void
