in art class, we were told to paint somebody who inspired us. i immediately thought of you. you were amazing in a every aspect, beautiful to the very end, and a lot smarter than people thought you were. i did my best, but i was foolish to believe that i could do your face justice with acrylic paints. not even the camera on your phone could capture just how perfect your nose was, or how your eyes sparkled as bright as the stars in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere.
i showed you the painting anyway; cheeks in full on blush mode. you smiled, stifling its greatness behind your hand. you thanked me and gave me a hug, although it was pretty difficult to hold onto the real you while acrylic you was in my hand. but i didn't mind, i was holding you and that's all that matters.
YOU ARE READING
float
Random[finished] thoughts are whispers floating in the wind, capturing every part of our being in the way only we know [lowercase intended]
