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Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
A gift of Bria’s love. As I watched her paint this for me she smiled. She called it bubblegum bubblegum. As much as I had hurt her I often wondered how she could still be so bright. To me, she was like the bubblegum I would stick under a desk when I was done with a chewing, or the bubblegum that I would peel off and toss that had gotten stuck on my shoe. But bubblegum she was, and so is this. Proof that beauty does come from pain. The way she loved me I could never return it, because just like used bubblegum I had known too well the way she had been chewed.
A gift of Bria’s love. As I watched her paint this for me she smiled. She called it bubblegum bubblegum. As much as I had hurt her I often wondered how she could still be so bright. To me, she was like the bubblegum I would stick under a desk when I was done with a chewing, or the bubblegum that I would peel off and toss that had gotten stuck on my shoe. But bubblegum she was, and so is this. Proof that beauty does come from pain. The way she loved me I could never return it, because just like used bubblegum I had known too well the way she had been chewed.