there was a moment that in my life where staring at myself in a mirror was impossible. mismatched. all I saw was a mismatched woman, a corpse, with voids of loss in her stomach and throat. I tried to hide all that by placing flowers in my mind, colors in my body and eyes who could see the unseen. the black background with red represents my loneliness and desperation of acknowledging my own depression. it’s hard to put on a facade and to keep on going. to put on my war paint. but by pretending I could I managed to believe in the possibility of happiness.