Paradox
A simpleton
Awaken from your slumber

A brazen ox
The callous din
Now death has called your number

What a time
And place so fair
I'd wish for nothing greater

Sweetest rhyme
No more to bare
Be wary, says the satyr

Can I take
The ruthless shame
Life no longer fills me

Endless lake
So filled with blame
These roots rot the whole tree

Saturnine
Of endless shine
Take me one and all

With anodyne
Send me a sign
Sink back and let it fall

Here I am
But here I go
The soul will never mend

Oh darling lamb
What you don't know
Will break you in the end

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