It is taking me too long for me to finally look at you. You look different than I initially imagined you might, When I conceived of you in a dream over a year ago. You no longer represent the heavy burdening of new opportunities for which I was grateful for but instead have twisted yourself into a morbid and indulged creature, that looks hollow and perhaps without purpose.

A shapeshifter and something I hardly recognize. I cannot call you Abundance when you are not whole. I cannot call you Abundance when you are not even the slightest bit sated. The way you claw your own throat, choking on the wings that might actually free you if you stopped trying to swallow them. I'm not sure what to call you now. You are just not Abundance.

Maybe... you are more akin to Greed.

You are a poor creature. A creation of my own twisted and self interested emotions. I love you and I'm scared of you and I long to know you. The quietest loud pieces of me.

As desperate as I am to know you I am becoming insatiably desperate to move on from you. And the sooner that I can cleanse my mind and my heart that compels me to create this painting, the sooner I can release myself from the burden I once thought I knew to be called Abundance.

Then I ask myself why I made my home out of our prison

Why did we hold ourselves hostage for so long

Sometimes I wonder if I am too early

If you had met me when I am older, and better, then maybe we could have skipped all the time we've spent hurting each other

Maybe hurting each other isn't something I can grow out of

It was patient. Distant. But it was persistent.

My love is vast and ever flowing. It changes. It adapts. It persists.

It terrifies me. It hurts.

I hurt you. I loved you.

There's no way I could labor over the ways I miss you to your face. To tell you that I long for our conversations and that I miss your mind and how it worked. Your humor. I miss your humor and our shared laughter. Your hands. I miss connection to you.