I tried to mix it all together,
but it's watercolors that fade.
My pigment has been blasted by
so many expectations it meshes into
this vague hue of nothingness.
I tried to pinch and pull it together,
but people will crack and break too.
My clay is the cheap stuff,
but it'll last longer than some tattoos.
I'm a bit more fragile than I think, but I'm a bit stronger, too. I'm brushes and bristles. I'm a palette of experiences. I'm a drying rack for tears. I'm a work of art that needs a bit more patience.
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