The most sincere reaction my body can give your art are tears.
Your art calls my ugly crying face gorgous.
It makes me feel things I want more of.
I am not crying alone anymore, I've got your shoulder.
You never make me,
I was already just looking for a reason.
A better one.

All just sentimental bullshit to an apathetic heart,
whose owner I couldn't be less envy of.

Maybe I like sad art because it's the easiest emotion I can feel,
no,
the emotion I can feel most easily.
Most naturally.
More naturally than happiness or fun.
A bitter fun.

Now I can lay down the mask to wear the ocean pearls proudly on my cheeks.
The days on which you spammed my cry button set me free.