Hunter T. Simmons, 16
from a small village
in upstate New York
I feel unopened. I feel like art that no one has seen. I feel alone. The type of loneliness I feel is not the kind that leaves your hands cold, bed empty, and lips dry - it's the kind of lonely that makes you strong. The kind of solitude that makes you appreciate yourself and think of yourself as a masterpiece. No one has seen who I really am. They have seen me in dimensions that I have chosen to reveal - but I am yet to be seen in color.
You'll see my Danube River Blue when I use your shoulder to cry on. You'll see my pulsating red as I rage in jealousy. You'll see my cold lipped purple when we skinny dip in the neighbor's pool. It takes time for these colors to bleed through people, but once they do... they leave stains on the hearts of people who see them. It's amazing what paintings your energy can create on the hearts of others.