Acrylic portrait.

And somewhere,along the way,she found herself.

disappointment,sadness,rage were mixed with the powerfull colours, and so, a painting was born.She was alive,living trough the drops of acrylic witch bound her fear with her desire to let go.

She felt alive.

I found her laying on the floor.She was so beautiful,but so breathless...

Everytime I turn, I see her eyes starring at me, immortal, begging me to save her soul.

You see ,she is me. As everything I felt at a particular moment in time created another person.With them gone,I'm nothing but empty.She was divine,and at the same time, too short living...

I may have lost them,I may have cried over but I know they don't have to be alive to speak.It's late and my memories are waiting to be delighted with the exquisite pain inside,as they do every single night...