colors ➸ mgc

masterpiece

february 17, 2012

"you're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece."

you were never perfect. you couldn't ever be. at least that's what you told yourself. but you never tried to be, either. said it was a waste of time. why would you try so hard to be something that you know you'll never achieve? that's how you interpreted the concept of perfection. some thought your interpretation was smart; others, not so much, to say the least.

"no one gives a shit about what anyone else does." you explained, your scratched and raw throat forcing out bitter, raspy words. "i don't care about what i look like, because everyone else is too busy worrying about what they look like to give a shit about me. perfection is romanticized stupidity."

you wanted to be a good person, you just didn't find it to be the first priority in life. only god knew what that was to you. there were days i would wonder if you even had a single priority. something you actually cared about other than your appearance and money.

why did i fall in love with you? i couldn't even tell you, michael. i know that i love you, but i just don't remember how i fell. you're a drug addict, loud, violent. they told me to stay away from you. that you were too dangerous. i guess that's what led me to you even more; the thought of danger, imperfection. even though your face wasn't the slightest bit of imperfect. people tend to notice the imperfections rather than taking time to find the beautiful complexion of everything.

your hair, whichever color it was, depending on the state of your current emotion, was always messy and erratic. when i first met you, i remember thinking that you did it just simply because it looked good on you, or you just thought it was cool. but i've grown to know you more, i've been able to understand you and your thoughts.

those eyes. those glossy green eyes. i loved the way they would glisten when you laughed, and glow when you were excited. these are the times i admire the most. you're smile could light up a room. it was a gorgeous sight.

and your musical talents came in handy when we needed it. you would go out on the streets, do some covers of a couple of old rock songs, using your raspy voice and beat up guitar. people loved it too and even though they knew you as an addict, they respected you. i personally think that thats better than people looking up to you gawking at just looks and not true talent.

i remember you telling me you were going to get a job. i remember scoffing, knowing that everyone in the city knew you as the talented druggie. 27's club for sure, they thought. but i knew you would make it at least until the day you're 28. you would do it too.

qualities like these helped hide your ripped edges. but the heroin, cuts, bruises; dark thoughts, intricate nightmares only composed of the devil's work. it was all there. but i tried to focus on the things that really mattered, the things i saw that no one else did. all the beautiful characteristics of the masterpiece you were.

➸

so i wrote this in like a half hour and it didn't come out as bad as expected aye

thank you guys,, ily

➸ jay