The Art of Her

She was careless, but I was in love. I didn't care about how she refused to commit to me. Sure, it hurt, but I wanted her and I would take any form of her that she was willing to give me. Whether she was breaking my heart or making me the happiest I had ever been.

She was the art that she believed was too beautiful for gallery walls. And far too beautiful for this world... but maybe that's because she wasn't like the rest of us. She was different. And she wasn't even human.