Call It A Fancy Folder.

I just wanted a place to post my art. I’m pretty proud of it.

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Hello, you cruel empty void. I am but a lackluster fellow and I have driven some other fellow thoroughly away. Why cannot I have that sad togetherness, only that companionship in solitude? It is only fit I sit with my troubles. Success and happiness are gifts which if at my doorstep must have been misdelivered, but I have been a package-theif for quite some time.

Why would I weep?

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My mind has chosen

to forget my happiness

I see you in pictures

but their context is lost and

I remember remembering,

I remember my fondness

But all I have now is

This long empty feeling

.

I drowned and drowned in

Those rough choppy waters

I clinged to the steady rock

That I could not see

I watched you get battered

By the waves from the typhoon

But I could not make myself

Swim out to you

.

By the time I had noticed

That the waves had receded

And the warm rock I’d clung to

Had kissed my wet cheeks

I’d lost sight of your body

And the sea had long claimed you

But your wails broke the clear daylit sky.

.

I know that I’d loved you

Not long ago but

Those memories are ones which

I tossed in the sea.

And here with my darling

Who looks at me lovingly,

That warm lovely rock to which

The waves had thrown me

.

My mind likes to forget

The nights that you held me

The nights that I held you

And how hard you tried.

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Working on a mancala board the wrong way lol

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This is Fenwyse, my rouge gnome!

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On the dark layered mesh

Lie delicate patterns.

Behind dusky, false brume,

Hide just barely, their shame.

.

To my partner, I whisper,

In his ear, I call them:

“Sexy...attractive,”

But regret what I say.

.

No doubt, the are stunning

Smooth skin sends hearts running

But their faces are missing

Cut off by the frame.

.

I lie on my stomach

And admire their clothing

I try not to linger:

Not just cloth’s on display.

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The first two are redraws of sprites from The Arcana. The last three are self portraits.

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A drawing of myself, drawing myself.

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It is late and I speak with the trees, and they are so old. They speak a language so foreign to me. I race and whisper with the grasses, but the trees remember what I and the grass have not grown to understand.

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One day I can say

That I love you

There will be no more doubt

in my heart

-

One day I’ll proclaim

That I love you

And that you

I could never depart

-

One day I’ll hold you

Nearly and dearly

One day I’ll tell you,

You’re my love,

you’ve my heart.

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The cactus is unfinished because my boyfriend hated it unfinished

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