The Art of You

Preface

She kept her hair in pigtail braids for some fucking reason. She always wanted to be this innocent little girl; always vulnerable. She loved the looks she got for looking so pure. She had these dark brown doe eyes that could sell you a goddamn penny. Everything about her was annoying and childish but I liked it in a weird way. She's gonna be 18 and still gives that look like you need to put your hands together and admire how sweet she was.

Her childhood was fucked; and that's saying something considering how I grew up. With a father like Frank.... there's only a few who can beat that. Her name was Quincy. Her mom had too many fucking kids to count and she was never home. Her dad was never around, and the other kids had different dads. We hung out together a lot but she moved all the time. Always to another family members. Always switching school. But no matter how many times she moved I remembered that innocent smile and those doe eyes.

I can feel her.

We are together.

I feel you everywhere.