objet d'art

five.

i spent days locked in my room trying to create a piece that was good enough for your liking, good enough for you.

i splattered earthy greens and violent reds and calming blues and toxic violets and loud golds onto a canvas.

i found myself picking at the edges of the dried up paint, unhappy with the outcome.

i started to pick at all the corners of myself, unhappy with who I've become all because you didn't seem to like what you saw.

but I'm not sorry.