The Difference Between Love and A Cold War Is Measured By The Way You Look At Me.

Why is it that we smile at each other when something is wrong. And we frown when things are just fine? We say one thing, but desire another. this honesty that we're hiding, like ballistic missiles beneath our facades, is itching to be heard. to be felt.

...to...be...felt...

i wonder how long this will last? getting our fix from each other.

using each other like drugs. shooting up with this fake happiness.
we're blackening our spoons. the spoons holding our hearts.

melting them ... to carbon.

injecting each others smiles like heroine.

EUPHORIC

ahh...isn't that better?

only until... you. leave. the. room.

then we're both unsatisfied. both eaten away. both shaking for more. quivering in trauma.
both of us have our hands hovering over those big red buttons. ready to set this life ablaze. drowning it in the radioactivity of desire.

but we dont press down. we dont engage. instead we smile the smile of diplomacy. of civility. just for appearances sake.

we refrain. refrain. disconnect.

this love remains nothing but a cold war. until we make eye contact.

and. everything. we. want. to. say. becomes. transparent. and. alive.

alive.

and when i embrace you, no matter how brief, i feel your heart against mine. i begin to wonder whether or not this cold war romance is our reality, or just a painting. And every moment we see each other becomes just another brush stroke of turpentine.

to decay the colors of this fabrication.

Giving in to something you dont understand.

You can't fix them. You've lost this battle. Sometimes we just have to leave it all behind. Not to be forgotten, but to be accepted.

You see that road? It calls for you. And I know your heart calls back.

Shed this skin and keep transcending. I couldn't stop you, so why should anything or anyone else?

Enjoy the smiles. But don't soak up the tears. You can be the foundation, but you can't keep the structure from crumbling. You can only catch the debris. The remains. And for every piece that's chiseled away, a new angle of view is revealed.

Whether you need a hand to hold or not, just keep traveling. the longer you linger on the side of the road, the more time you have to regret. To wonder. to second guess. until time is gone, and you have no choice but to stay and lie in the grass. And soon to lie under it.

Thoughts from the Page

Just a small sketch I while waiting for class. It's inspired by the song Dear Child (I've been Dying to Reach You) by Anthony Green.

Organs

This is an ongoing mixed media study involving collage and nail polish on sheets of metal. The project as of this moment is untitled.