"Behold and see what a great heap of grief lay hid in me"- Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet V
I can doubt myself having an artistic nature but not Sarah. She is a true artist. She wakes up everyday and paints herself into a serene portrait even though she is a body of open wounds continuously flooding the roads she walks with red hot emotions.
Sarah is a woman not a girl. She is the slut that does not fuck. The bitch who will give you a smile. She is the superficial girl… who dreams of changing the world! Sarah is Ms. Perfect… who doesn't always know what she wants and what to say.
She will squeeze the life out of your knees, smash your heart into the wall. She will cut you open with her eyes and watch you, uninterested, as you bleed out on the side of the street… But still she is Sarah, and she will manage to do it all kindly.
We grew up in one family… Sarah is the ultimate girly girl, and I was the tomboy. Wherever we went, I always looked like her bodyguard. But in fact, I am soft and she is tough. I hesitate while she gets things done.
Sarah is the strongest person I know… everyone was waiting for her to make a mistake.. To call out on all her flaws. Everyone fought her and fought about her.
I am proud of Sarah… Of the person she was, and the person she is and the one she will become. This girl is going places. She is the only artist I believe in.