I'm always saying something to someone, but rarely verbally, never audibly because of a fear of rejection, a fear of being alone.

Articulates what I cannot say, in hopes that the one I can't say it to will suddenly see, suddenly understand.
"Just talk to me"
"I love you"
"Shut up,"
"Don't leave"
"Come with me,"
"You bitch,"
"Touch me"
"Kiss me,"
"You are amazing"
"Will you be my friend?"
"Just hold me,"
"Am I pretty?"
"I'm lonely,"
"Go away"
"Love me,"
All these statements feel pathetic, but art communicates the emotions in those statements but lessens pathetic-ness, lessens the guilt about the innocence of a three or four word phrase when I should be more articulate than that, more mature than that. A guilt when I know I can be better, do it better.
So I push myself. Dancing on that boundary line, leaning against a a chain-link comfort fence, then a deep breath and a jump. Over the fence and into another level of self expression and personal style. Clinging to baited breath, praying to succeed, praying for a beautiful outcome, praying for not another failure.
But still I'm hoping to be noticed. Theres still that hope, so some part of me must feel more than pathetic. Worth more. Worth a chance, worth hoping for, worth the love of another, worth something better.
I hope for someone to make that connection. Make A connection. Make a bond. Form a relationship. Form a connection. Make a connection. Make me feel less foreign, alien, socially illiterate, les alone.
Hoping for a second glance. Second look. A lingering stare at a heartfelt painting. Hoping for someone to make a connection.
I reached out. Tried to connect. Notice me.
Hoping to be understood.
Hoping for their insight.
Hoping for Affection.
Attention. That Second glance.
Hoping for Love
Desiring social connection.
Longing.
Belonging.
Familiarity.
Acceptance.
My pieces show skill, control, technique, breadth while still being deeply personal and displaying my passion, my desire. It shows an ability to adapt, change with the situation while still keeping a piece of me, while still keeping it personal. A flexibility.

Can you see it? Can you see what I was trying to say?
Can you hear me? Can you hear the song I write with paint and pencil.
Do you feel me? Can you feel it? Can you feel what I'm trying to say?
Can you see me? Can you see me/i>?
Don' just turn and walk away.