“Art…”

Art,
My sweet devil,
Save me.
I’ve
Gotten so comfortable with falling apart.

Emptiness,
Like the dried up stream,
I run from.
At times I’m fooled.
The stream is still dry.

Love,
A quest to find some spark,
Somewhere,
Some life.
My loving tears
Can’t turn a wasteland to a park.

Passion,
What is it?
Books, songs, dances,
I see nothing.
Sometimes so foreign,
Just like laughing.

Purpose?
I’ve erased them.
Nothing really worth it.
No difference can be made.
Living to live,
To what?

Happiness,
I’ve heard it.
When my mind shuts up.
When I have somewhere to go.
Not inside,
Staring at the snow.

Quietness,
It kills me.
Painful passing of each second.
Breaths going by unused.
I embrace
Fear of it
Being my muse.

You,
Oh no,
Not this type of thing again.
As if these pages aren’t bleeding.
I’d give you my heart,
But it needs a lot of weeding.

Belonging,
I haven’t figured it out.
I belong where there is sunshine,
Not where much sun shines.
Home is an illusion.
Family is chains.
Friendship is fleeting.
Independence makes few gains.

Art,
My sweet devil,
Let me,
Find peace in my pieced state.
Tell me,
What path I’m right to take.

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