Art Collector

Standing at the junction.
And the tears stopped.
I couldn't cry anymore.
I hoped they would wash the dirt, the shame i felt.
Why did i love?
Why did i share me?
It was a happy place just minding my own business.
Then it enticed me with its petty colours and laughter.
The seering pain in my heart that came with letting me enjoy this fairy tale doesnt feel like it was worth the trouble now.
Seems like what looked like an original da vinci has a 'made in china' sticker in the corner that i didnt look in.
I didnt look, yet i called myself an art collector, yet...
It probably wont seem so painful , so bad in the morning.
I just know am at a very quiet junction. A very still moment when i need to move in some direction.
Is any direction ever right?
See you in the morning. They say the morning makes it seem not so bad. May it dawn soon.

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