I stared at the work of art with a calm smile on my lips. I skipped it earlier on purpose, wanting it to be the conclusion of my day.
I tore myself away from the rest of the crowd and missed the rest of the museum tour for this masterpiece that reminded me so much of myself.
If I was an artwork, I would be this.
From far away, the Starry Night was a mere painting. But closer, it was different. All of the colors and details stood out until you see nothing but rough, individual brush strokes.
It was made up of a lot of things. Mostly, it was a mess of blues and golds; but overall, it was a beautiful mixture of flaws and magic.
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The Writer and Her Daydreams
PoetryA prose and poetry collection where dreams transform into something real.