You melted at my feet, a pool of thick goop hugging the edges of my souls. Do you expect me to scoop you up? Did you want to become my mess? And I can smell you all over me, like lingering smoke. You melted at my feet, I dipped my finger in you, consumed you, and left you.
As I sit here and look at this painting I’ve been working on, I long to weave more colors into it. But I like what I see, and I feel this tremendous release of energy, sometimes i find myself amazed at the things I create, things that existed inside of me that I didn’t even know about