WHEN I FUCK YOU I THINK OF HIM

These images were created in in the ruins of love.

A selection of 10 drawings documenting the dissolution of a relationship and the birth of the new.

You need to keep your hands busy. You set a system, one pad of paper, one set of pencils and a set of crayons. You sit on a bench in a new town and you scribble because you simply don’t want to cry anymore and you need something else to take up the energy. But what if you find more sex, more love, to replace the old, you can layer one on top of the other to fill the gap. You scratch away allowing the colours and rhythms of your hand across the page distract you. Perhaps you can forget in the arms of another or perhaps you can only remember how the old hands felt when you shut your eyes, letting the new hands run over you. You slow down, you make smaller marks, you focus and breathe. You have forgotten how to be alone, so you scratch out these drawings and basks in every new text message, every smiley winky face and lament at every silent hour. He wants you back but you say you met someone else but you fuck him anyway. You feel broken and you are consumed with petty worries, you are scared your cunt tastes rotten. You don’t know if you are falling in love or falling apart, so you just want him to fuck you harder. You ooze desperation but they don’t seem to notice.

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By A. Liparoto

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