Make me a painting. A sculpture. A work of art. An image from your mind.
I don’t mean paint something for me. I mean paint me.
Sculpt me in your image. Paint me into your proper presence. Turn me into your perfect masterpiece. Because without you, I am nothing. I am but a husk of what could be. An empty shell waiting to be filled.
And when you’re done, you can display me to the world. Or you may destroy me, and use my parts for your other works. I don’t care. I’d much rather exist as parts of something than an entire nothing.
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