i liked the fact that he trusted me.
much like how an artist would illustrate colour and emotion,
he meticulously painted me
with his secrets and inner thoughts and
inner words.
crafting art.
in this world there are cruel people who do whatever they please,
they run away and break hearts.
yet even if the canvas shook and the colour turned to oil,
we talk.
he told me things he had never told anybody.
everything but superficial it was him,
the him i never thought i would know.
