It will only chip away at the quick-dry concrete that has solidified around your nerve endings.
It will only make the world appear painted and tricks you into thinking black and white is Technicolor.
It will turn you into something more than you were while breaking you into smaller and smaller pieces.
It burns you in ways that fire is unable to move.
It will leave you naked in empty tundra when you should not be alone.
It will blind you with the illusion of change while inside you are stagnant.
Art will not save you.
So why won’t you stop creating?
Art Will Not Save You
Published
Poetry Overdose 