with each love i cut loose, i was never the same.

regret’s never been a word i use, i think change is better suited.

some took parts of me, modified my art for the better, and for the worse.

some days we feel good, and we are left to make sense of all the parts. some broken, some entirely whole.

some didn’t respect my vision, my style, my sexuality.

some took from me in ways i couldn’t see at the time.

i guess every year, i become more awake. the change of season brings this out of me.

as an artist, you shouldn’t attempt to do what someone can do better. only work in the medium in which you can offer the world something no one else can.

that is truth.