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| Image: fillysfriend.com |
Holding back my tears just writing this piece, if I cry I’ll be letting you go and if I don’t then it’s a grenade to my soul. Months ago we were’ grand artistes’, you Picasso and me Andy Warhol. We had our own canvas of lust and love, me draping all my bold neon colours, you making sense of it all with your graceful contours. A masterpiece in the making…
Then one day our bubble burst and so did the colour on our canvas. Neons became indigo, lavender shades, grey. All the beauty and harmony in our joined souls transformed into detachment, unfamiliarity and turmoil. Now all we have is a canvas of hate, regret and much sadness.
We can never have our ‘happy canvas’ again, but for the most part I can throw in some pastels, you can refine our piece with your strokes. And through it all we will have created our very own imperfect, peaceful, contradictory: Masterpiece.
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