Don't smile at me. Don't wait for the light to turn green. Don't beckon me with your arms in waving motions that look like you're treading water and pulling sand toward you at the same time. Don't smile and say my name. Don't look at me with those eyes. Don't say that you've been wanting to talk to me. Don't. Don't do any of it. Don't frown when I ignore you. Don't make me feel bad for avoiding you. I have to avoid you. You're poison and I've had too much of you. I'm barely alive at this point. I'm floating. I'm angry. I'm a storm with rolling clouds of gray and loud thunder and pelting rain that stings. You're cold and dark and deadly, like sharp rocks in the sea. Don't smile at me. Don't say my name. Don't.
Also, almost done with this painting!
Writer. Reader. Gamer.
"She wasn't doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together." -Salinger
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