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She kissed me and bit my lips. I was heartbroken and defensive and on a relentless ride to nowhere. I knew where this was going but I remainder a subway passenger studying the advertisements and train route placards.
I watched the doors open and close but never had the courage to step through them. I was frozen, cold hands filtered to veins that would soon have my heart.
All signs pointed to an ending when what I should have been looking at is a start. A new life for me was somewhere but before I could have any other character, courage would be the one I needed first.
I stood there, drips of blood were already painting a portrait on my shirt and this would be a masterpiece, Van Gogh in his prime and my time my moment, my contribution to art would be this very moment.
