Me

I am not my clothes. I am not my weight. I am not the peircings on my body. I am not the makup on my face. I am not what i eat. I am not who you want me to be. I am me. I am my art. My art is unique. so many faces and only one voice. My art will dig into your body, wrap its fingers around your throat; feed your soul and kiss your heart dry. My soul and the soul of my art intersect. Intertwined like baloon strings. Forever. Together. I better get ahold of myself