what a mess we've made

the what a mess we've made. charcoal, watercolors, acrylics. 18x12. 2020.

i. my first kiss was in the dark, somewhere behind a pillar, at a high school i didn't go to, during a talent show i didn't perform in. he was my boyfriend of two months at that point, and we had only ever shyly held hands before. we had two radiant years of explosive vibrancy – so much music, art, and beauty before it all imploded. we self-destructed into fragments so small that only the mixtapes, photographs, and paintings we left behind could make sense of it all.

ii. i used to think kisses were sacred. until a boy kissed me without embracing me, held my hand without ever holding my gaze, and told me i was beautiful so often that i stopped believing in it. and in him.

iii. what is truly sacred, i've learned, are all the spaces in between. and it is in those spaces where things get messy, where we hurt and cry and laugh and dance and live in such a way where love can emerge. whether it implodes, transforms, or nourishes... the undeniable truth is that it at least means something. something, within all the chaos of two universes colliding. the kiss was just the beginning. and what a beautiful mess it all is.

currently privately owned.