The Artist

I am fascinated by the way people’s eyes change with circumstance. Like when I found myself in Philadelphia at an art gallery and his eyes lit up when I said to him that I thought his art was the most lovely.  Or when I was gazed upon from the empty eyes of a boy who feared being hurt and therefore lived without soul. I would be lying if I said that seeing him again would not make my world come to a stop. At a pier at the edge of the city I watched as he admirably and inquisitively looked onto the water, and I wished that the gentle waves would whisper to me his thoughts. He was authentically himself and that showed in the wonderful things he created and spoke of… however he lacked the confidence and strength needed to want something and take it. I was fooled by his drunken dialogue that translated to my ears as the most profound poetry, or beautiful music that speaks to your soul. I told myself again and again not to fall in love with words but then he said to me that to kiss me is to experience me spiritually. I cannot help the way I twist a handful of weeds and dandelion into fields of lavender. We spoke to each other with our eyes and when he kissed me it was urgent, and then slow. Had I never kissed him that day, in that moment, my life would never have turned upside down. I wanted to give all that I was to him, I wanted to show him my world. I wanted to ride in his car with the fucked up mirror and broken CD player until I didn’t recognize where I was anymore. When he vanished, he took a small part of me with him- the part that felt things so deeply and as free as the air. I opened my heart and soul to someone who disappeared without warning or explanation, leaving me breathless and betrayed. That version of myself died when I woke up to realize that showing someone who you are does not mean that they will love you for it, and that promises don’t mean shit. And if you ask me now who I relate the most to, it would be the broken boy with empty eyes, loving me without soul when my heart just wants to feel something.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: