Photo by Rumman Amin on Unsplash

Mona Lisa Smile

On a sunny day, a tropical paradise, a brunette girl between the sheets.
My natural awakening is shamefully insufficient,
10 hours feels like a useless siesta.
I hide from the sound of the birds, the inviting soft waves of the sandy bay to enjoy another moment in heaven. Dramatizing imagination.

Colorful fruits, lush greens, wooden cabin, I walk barefoot on natural stone. Almost naked.
Minding my own business.. Busing my own mind.

Gratefulness, where are you?
You tried to knock on heavens door but it was locked long time before.
Because I just can’t seem to grasp your ideals, I swallowed the key, oops.

Nothing works, nothing calms, nothing feels whole.
My world is shattered but smiling like Mona Lisa.
If you pay closer attention she doesn’t really smile, she wonders:
“ah what a world is looking at me? seeing such beauty in my Pinocchio twisted nose.”

I try to hide her face until I’d paint a different facial expression, a positive, a cheerful one.. one that could sing and dance and kiss and laugh.
But no, the more color I try to force the more she’s bleeding black.
This dark liquid is dripping down her face and causes the whole image to turn horrifying but artistic.
Art is the dark wanting to be expressed from within, some smarter human said before. Not me though.
But no, we don’t like black so we splash rays of yellow, artificial light and happiness to wash away the sorrow. You’re invited in my gallery.
I need them…