loneliness - like a disease
that the healthy are afraid to see
and sometimes bigoted towards
and many people will try any remedy to try and heal themselves
(what's worse than sex? masturbation. see the warning stickers - the restricted drug content. abuse. sadness. fear. all so clear. we fear loneliness)
and this room is painted blue and lonely...but there's pencils all over the place
and strings, vibrating with longing, on hollow shells that yearn to make music
that yearn to breathe...
and so much blank paper...fluttering through the rolling air from the window like branches above the world
there's love in here i know!
and hatred
in all these books and paintings
they're filled with imagination and life
and bullshit
a formula for art.
put well by vonnegut "two pounds of shit in a one pound bag"
but this room is so real! filled with dreams
where do they go when I wake up?
maybe they sit still all day and watch me live my "real" life
i call it a life of "art" – they call it bullshit
when I cry especially
yes my soul just laughs
like the cymbals that spin and clatter, that mock me when I scream too loud