#open me

I never understood words, and maybe that has to do with the fact that I can barely read without them getting out of order, sometimes everything looks like alphabet soup. Instead, I turned to colors and learned to mix tears with paint just to see what color they’d create. One day I cut my wrists open to see if watercolor really did flow through these veins, but all I got were pills. I was simply tired of everyone telling me I had it wrong, when you learn to paint with every tone you realize that grey is just another color, because sometimes you can drink yellow paint and never reach happiness just ask Van Gogh. So if my crayon box only consisted of blue I wouldn’t mind, it’s a reminder of you. So I’ll just continue to paint these thoughts into my art like flowers pressed into books, and tucked away until it’s shipped to you with a tag reading