Poison

It must be so hard trying so hard to project perfection. Your idealized paintings are lacking all identity. Your superficial smiles, faux emotions, contrived captions, and staged settings are not endearing to connection. Living in the shallow end eliminates all pretense of depth and this shallowness becomes overwhelming when facing sufficient heat. The shallow end becomes a shallow grave when a rising sun evaporates the smoke and mirrors and leaves you floundering on the always barren but only now exposed bottom.

We may never truly know whether your exclusion of authenticity is subconscious or intentional, but we can see from your premise that your true colors are tainted. Regardless of the promise and pageantry of your projections, I am not drinking your perfectly beautiful, beautifully perfect poison.