He was jealous and his jealousy knew no bounds. It festered as he pretended to be ok with the things I said. Smashing me became a pasttime.

Smashing everything and everyone I liked was also a hobby. Later I figured out it wasn't so much that he was jealous of the people and things I directed my affections toward, but rather he was angry at me and felt the need to smash everything I liked in a roundabout way of smashing me. He had a lot of venom inside of him.

It happened time and time again, yet each time I never expected it. I always thought this would be the time things would be ok. They never were.

This artwork represents each of us as black seething entities that have so much red soreness between us that we will never touch, we will never come together. Never again.