Does it matter that I exist?
Somewhere beyond hope,
Where the air hangs thin.

Does it matter? When I hide myself
behind a mask
and that mask
inside a box
and that box in a shadow
too dark to be found,
Or noticed?

Does it matter that I wait
a torn canvas in the rain?
Waiting for the brush to hit home and hit hard.
So numb I forget to feel the pain.

Does it matter? When the wounds have healed and you’ve moved on.
But the scars remain.
Name forgotten,
I don’t have to pretend.
The cracked eyes and whisky smile hide who I am.