life imitates art

When you look at me, what do you see? Do you see art; open to interpretation? Ugly to some, yet so heart-wrenchingly beautiful to others?

Do you see yourself within me, broken and distressed within cool colors or anger and ill-tempered within warm? Do you see the happiness within your soul as you analyze the stroke of paint atop my skin?

I am not art. I do not belong on a wall in my exhibit, for my soul to be bare for all, I am not for your amusement, for your reviews, for your judgement.

I am not art. I do not belong on a wall in my exhibit, for my soul to be bare for all, I am not for your amusement, for your reviews, for your judgement. My pain is not something to be ostracized, or watched by spectators.

1 note, reblog
#writing #art #paint #pain #spilled ink #word
4 years ago, 1 notes

  1. blcklivesmatter posted this
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