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it's harder than you make it seem, isn't it? being an artist.
everybody dreams. but you were brave enough to turn all of yours into a filtered reality; a version of something ugly inside your head into something that's easy on the eyes.
every time you put an empty paper in front of you, it's like turning back around to look at a haunted house you barely left, and while others would breathlessly laugh and mumble, "let's never do that again," to themselves after they walk out, you stand there and wait, knowing you would have to go back in there. over and over again.
and it doesn't end at that. you go back inside and frail your arms around in the dark until you catch a tiny speck of light in your shaking hands.
and when you turn that light into a masterpiece for people to see, they don't ask for the gory details. and you don't mention them either. because you're afraid of sounding insane. so instead you smile and thank them for thinking your mind is breathtaking.
and it is.
but somewhere inside, you know you're like a superhero with powers that blind you every time you use them.
you smile anyway.
because it's what we do
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*poisonous; sorcerous; magical
YOU ARE READING
delirium
Poetrywhen the darkness outside my window turns gloomier than the one inside me, the words embedded in my chest sparkle like jewels. || poetry collection. ©️2019 by auro m.
