The planters were full. The blossoms were just about to bloom. Things seemed hopeful. Because I had the things I wanted in reach. But just as quickly as it started, it ended. With a cloud of unreadiness cast across the blossoms and the foundation holding it. I should have seen it sooner. But I wanted to build the foundation. Care for it. Instead, I only hurt it with not being true to myself. 
So, the garden is empty and all the vines are here. Suffocating. Crawling in my veins. Comfortably.

2016

Preliminary Sketches 

Flushed out under drawing 

Flushed out under drawing