Pain

Soiled II by Ruby Pester

She couldn’t stand it. The pain. The guilt. It was eating her up inside. She didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. It was an accident.
She cheated. She was sorry. He said he couldn’t look at her. She couldn’t look at herself either. It hurt too much. She’s still sorry.

This is why I love Art. It invokes certain feelings and thoughts that nothing else could. As Picasso once said: “a painting speaks for itself.” To me this speaks of betrayal and pain. A self loathing and regret that results from an action that can never be undone.
________________

Have you ever cheated?

Been cheated on?

I have, on both counts. They both hurt just the same.

"El Dante"