can it change you?
somewhere around the second half of life
I was forced to confront uncomfortable truths:
I am terrorized by trauma
devastated by dead ends
with all the money in the world,
I still wouldn't have any friends
I try to be nice and I am
but it drains me to pretend
my dreamscape is littered
with old gods from lost lands
whom no one remembers but me
I'm alone, and yet not free
weighed down by the existential necessity
of being known, felt and loved
and so I asked a question:
can art- any art, in any way- change you?
can it make you want to stand where before you sat?
can it make you speak when you didn't have the courage to do that?
can it shake you out of a stupor you hardly knew you were in,
and show you an entirely new way to begin?
if it can then I'll try, and either way I'll die
but at least you'll know why I lived
~
2025