“I was born from nature therefore, I am art.”

Let it be known that I was born to be free.

Love doesn’t hurt us people do.

And what shall I call you? Yours. In this life, the ones before, and all others thereafter.

The true masterpiece lies within me.

My roots touched mother earth and she blessed me with her color. Brown skin is beautiful.

Each kiss is my slice of heaven on earth.

My appetite for life has returned.

Eyes closed, hearts open. Vulnerable, I surrender. Trust fall, please catch me.

My flowers rot beneath my bed. I was too selfish to part with them. I hope their deaths don’t bring hexes. Did I say flowers? I meant my exes.

He pondered, what would make them believe in me? And God created women.

Honey, you are a rose.

A creature lives deep within, rotting far beneath my skin. Touch the pain inside of me, just to let my heart be free.

For my own sanity, I must love myself in an obsessive and urgent manner. My life depends on it. I am healing.

With all the secrets and lies you keep. Your beauty is only skin deep. Vamp.

Everything intensifies during a full moon. Your edge creeps up slowly on the awaiting shore.

Because of her, I know unconditional love. Because of him, I have learned to forgive. Life lessons from mom and dad.

Nature is the art of God.

True art comes from flying with the madness so close you burn your eyelashes.

What is art without the human touch before it all gets dark.

The art of being uncomfortable is a fine one it is necessary to become strong.

All she built had fallen apart it’s OK she believed destruction was art.

The art of reading and studying consists of remembering the essentials and forgetting what is not essential.

Art is mostly a long stroll in the wilderness of one’s own heart.

If only were my skin like art shining against the mould, if only my body were a canvas brave if only.