march 26, 2019

despite all my cracks,
i still put on my mask
Hide the flames churning inside
Hide the flood of tears in (crossed out: your) my eyes
Hide the rocks weighing down

my

soul.

I follow you
to the end
of the world
she said

but I am
not going there
he responded
and walked away

Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art

My poems seem to have been
torn
apart
the edges frayed
the phrases broken
unable to be put
back
together
again