CANIDAE

“I was broken like this before you came along. I never lied when I told you that my issues couldn’t be fixed just by filling me up with love and precious memories that would one day turn into a smell; the nostalgic tenderness of a time that felt better than today. I wasn’t able to find my heart when I wanted to tell you that maybe this isn’t exactly what we thought it would be. But don’t get me wrong, I searched for it for longer than you’d know; while you were working, while you were sleeping and sometimes when you were in the other room carrying on a conversation with me as if nothing was buried beneath the depths of my insecurities. No one can ever tell me that I didn’t try, that we didn’t try. I have the evidence on the palms on my hands, on the bottom of my feet and on the rough side of my heart. I can’t tell you the last time I freed myself with my own words. I have felt so empty for so long and I never once thought you didn’t try to save me with what you thought was kindness and love. But I needed more, and don’t we all? Isn’t that always someone’s story? Isn’t that always the beginning of two lovers end? But I don’t want it to end, not this way. Not before we really got started. Not before you could one day see the sides of me that I know are somewhere in this mess of a woman who has taken on the responsibility of keeping others alive. I don’t want to leave but there are times when I know it would be easier for you, better for you, better for everyone. I’ve never been one to give up, have never been one to leave without a note, without a warning, without a trace of where you could find me. But somewhere inside of me is telling me that even if I did leave, that even if I did leave you with hints of where I will end up, where I went to get away, where I went to find the parts of myself that I know would be easier to love, that you wouldn’t even try to look for me anyway.”

“What is the matter with me today? Is it desire, disillusion, dreams of the future? My head aches, my heart is empty;”

Pros and Cons about making art