You don’t know the thoughts of a painter until you’ve dissected his masterpiece.
You don’t understand the process behind each stroke or how every scenery has a tale that you skipped past.
Art looks beautiful, yes, it’s true.
But, there’s a cost to every beauty mark,
my mother used to tell me crazy tales- she once told me that our birthmarks…?
That’s how you died in the previous life.
You don’t get a life without little pain,
you don’t get a love without little hurt,
you don’t catch feelings without a little rip.
Every time you hand that heart out…
know that you won’t always get closure,
life is full of shock therapy,
I just didn’t expect you to be a part of my insanity.
That painter is the writer.