My love of art, I think it stemmed from my love for you.
You were a hurricane that shook my very existence on this planet, and for that I am thankful.
I am a concoction of swirling thoughts and feelings that I thought no one would and could never know or understand.
You always said I said spent too much time thinking; I think these thoughts will be my inevitable end one day.
However, you understood, you knew. You understood the thoughts and feelings I couldn't even know myself.
Sometimes I think you knew me better than I knew myself.
Then the world ripped us apart.
Art, the only medium I know to express myself.
Every time I create, I think of you. No one may ever understand these thoughts again, but everyday I try to make them understand.
I create. These abstract feelings, I force them into something physical I can hold on to.
Feelings so real and raw and completely unexplainable.
I want someone to know and understand me like you did.
Not to judge me, but to understand.
And with every word I write, every stroke of the brush, every picture, film, music, I do it because of you.
You showed me what it was like to love, to let someone else in.
When they ripped you from my arms, I died.
And now all I want is for someone to understand me like you did.
I long for that companionship you gave me.
And so I write this hoping someone will understand. Understand why my need for expression is so strong.
YOU ARE READING
a collection of unrelated writings
Puisia collection of lyrics, poetry, passages etc. i wrote during an odd period in my life. maybe someone will find this and relate or not feel as lonely. This isn't really meant for the public, its more for me, just so I can have a place to put all my...
