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Art should speak to you without saying a word
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Chris, you never understood me. I never wanted to be put on a pedestal. I wanted to be freed from those expectations. You wanted to worship me for my beauty and make me a symbol of your success. You wanted to make me an object of desire... not a woman. But I'll make sure you know what that means. I'll give you the beauty you long for, the ability to spark desire with simply a look. Your body will be sculpted feminine perfection— the very thing you were trying to make me.
You will inspire lust within those who view you. They'll pass you, one person at a time, each longing to touch you while you are helpless to satisfy the carnal hunger growing within your loins. Your eyes will smoulder and your lips will pout, wishing you could fulfill both their desire and yours. But you will only be a pretty thing on display, a trophy, a living status symbol for whomever owns you. You'll spend your days up on your perch, eternally beautiful and in a perpetual state of frustration.
Perhaps one day you'll truly comprehend what you tried to make me. Perhaps you'll sympathize and understand why I did this. You might even come to accept your fate someday... but part of me believes you'll love it.