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Description
edit: thankyou for the daily deviation!
if you want to look me up on facebook, it is
under the name menteurmenteur on facebook here
i also have a tumblr under the name menteurmenteur also

there’s a hushed rapid thunder of people
swirling around my limbs
olympia’s hand in mine
the gravity taken out of my $10 soles
floating violently in youth

and this time -
i smell of insecurity,
isolation,
fresh breath gum (professional practice mints),
cigarettes
and jerky limb movements in dark spaces
it doesn’t take me long in this state to find a mirror of “the classical ideal”
my very own vitruvian boy
close to my vehement, purple-hued fingertips
"plaster on a honey-tempered smile and claim him", she says
the wisteria trails down my back, matching each digit faithfully
"the classical feminine"
and i know i am his match

i turn to him - he walks away as though i’m nothing
and swerves to build flesh on flesh.
there’s an aching sort of heavy in my gut
pulling me down into the dirt
and under the feet of the surrounding
that’s why he’s gone - he couldn’t see me
from this far down

i’ll repair it at 3am when the light is too bright and the heaviness is out of me, slurring
"they did this to you"
"they did this to you"
no.
you
did you
to yourself

--
oil on canvas.

Description
edit: thankyou for the daily deviation!
if you want to look me up on facebook, it is
under the name menteurmenteur on facebook here
i also have a tumblr under the name menteurmenteur also

there’s a hushed rapid thunder of people
swirling around my limbs
olympia’s hand in mine
the gravity taken out of my $10 soles
floating violently in youth

and this time -
i smell of insecurity,
isolation,
fresh breath gum (professional practice mints),
cigarettes
and jerky limb movements in dark spaces
it doesn’t take me long in this state to find a mirror of “the classical ideal”
my very own vitruvian boy
close to my vehement, purple-hued fingertips
"plaster on a honey-tempered smile and claim him", she says
the wisteria trails down my back, matching each digit faithfully
"the classical feminine"
and i know i am his match

i turn to him - he walks away as though i’m nothing
and swerves to build flesh on flesh.
there’s an aching sort of heavy in my gut
pulling me down into the dirt
and under the feet of the surrounding
that’s why he’s gone - he couldn’t see me
from this far down

i’ll repair it at 3am when the light is too bright and the heaviness is out of me, slurring
"they did this to you"
"they did this to you"
no.
you
did you
to yourself

--
oil on canvas.