#for-evernxw

The strokes are bold and harsh, scattered and flayed across the rough surface leaving sharp thorns raised above the portrait. It paints a picture that is shrouded in predictability, the feeling of unease sets in.. dread lingers throughout every stroke.

Stop and stare.. It shows no gracious features, move closer and see.

Surrounded by beauty in every corner, the canvas hangs in the middle of the gallery.. known to all and intentionally avoided. Hearing the sounds of shallow voices echo close by, uneasy eyes glance over to the coarse strokes, interrupted by a speaking of muffled words to remind the hopeful that it's fairytail shouldn't be taken lightly.

Space opens on the floor once more, distant and safe, as the suns light touches the last of the sky.

I am a work of art... a canvas painted by the people in my life... and I am not that.

I am vivid and detailed, I am the perfect shade of colour.. aesthetic and whole.

I am all of life's complexities.