you’ll never be able to understand an artist’s mind no matter how much you try. you’ll look deep into his eyes, you’ll try to peer down his soul, just to catch a glimpse of the person his is hiding inside. but no matter how much you try, all you’ll see are walls. walls he’s hiding behind. walls built on fear, spelling distraught and sadness. they’ll be marked and painted by the ones that he left and scarred by the ones that left. in addition, there will be words; written by the ones that tried loving him and there will be remains of the ones that did. you’ll try to get in, but you’ll just be another dent and you won’t be able to do anything about it.