literature

Wasted

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TechnicolorYawns's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

Nit and pick and loud ideas.
Loud opinions.
Loud arguments.

"I'm an artist," she said.

Eyes full,
Drinking everything!
Everything they can, everything that gleams.
Everything and every idea--
Looking everywhere but forward...

"I'm an artist," she said.

So full.
Knowledge, ideas--
Skill!

"I'm an artist," she? Said.

"I am."

She...he said.


"I am good..."
He continued.


Lick the corners and paste it up,
put it high
say it loud

"I'm...well..."
He began.

"I'm an artist," He insisted!

He looked at Earth.

"I'm...wasted." And tears fell into the dirt.

His mighty dragons, towers, his fortress tumbled, crumbled and fell.

His innocence and youth teased him, taunted...and left him standing there.

His army of blackness, his hounds that once greeted him...touched him and spirited away, mist in a gust of winter wind.

Nothing was real.

Under his feet, not billowing grasses...concrete. Cars honked and people spoke, hushed, together and not to him.

Wasted...

He cried, tears on the brim of his looking glass. He cried for his world.

For it was all as the clouds in the sky, smoke bent around trying hands, willing but not able.

He stopped.

For once...

She looked forward.
"Rotting like a wreck on the ocean floor, sinking like a siren who can't swim any more--
Your songs remind me of swimming...but I can't swim any more."



Crumpled paper stock by ^PirateLotus-Stock
© 2013 - 2024 TechnicolorYawns
Comments3
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freckly-voodoo-doll's avatar
Oh wow.. This is p powerful...