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.