some form of art

qzat

I told you I hated

so many things

so many arts of value

and I did it to protect myself

explaining this is quite complicated

for when I read poems

I don't just read them

they call out to me

they seek out my weaknesses and explore my failings

in every word I feel not what the author felt but rather a private message

inscribed in each letter

in each brushstroke

in each movement

meant only for me

reaching up from the heart they pierce grasping at tear ducts

and again I am weak

arts reveal

they expose

in them comes a comfort but also a vulnerability

one I can't yet face

a self

a reflection I don't want to see

me

I'm confronted with all the versions of myself I've hidden so deeply

and again I pronounce

I hate them

for in arts I see not the beauty within but rather the pain

unpresentable versions

of selves I'm not yet ready to meet

  • Author: qzat (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 18th, 2018 22:45
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 14
  • Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Dan, swyndell
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Comments +

Comments1

  • Poetic Dan

    The more I think of your words
    Goosebumps are going berserk
    So many whos I've met in myself
    You've help me see something else..

    Thank you for sharing your soul art !




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