Self vs The Artist, Pt. 2

I thought about killing you.

choking you by your neck, blocking your airflow

your words would not longer be able to manipulate me.

why do I have to speak every time I don’t?

why does my soul move before my mind even thinks?

is the insecurity shown in the translucent skin?

does the way my body dances impel you?

Affection in my blood work, Terror in my eyes.

abusing my work until its substance is insignificant

gambling with my emotions until I have nothing left

embracing the instability and inconsistency until everyone is pushed away

digging my own grave of self destruction,

yet I still question the faith of each soul around me possesses.

I can’t kill you because you keep me going,

but I can’t embrace you because you’ll kill me.

but the art reflects life,

so if life is to be destroyed, art could not prosper either

and therefore I have chosen to care for myself over you.

the smile on my face sees the sunlight

burying you underneath with only a sliver of your void is shown.

I suppress your thoughts until the temptations become a shell

finally living with only myself by diminishing you.

too many thoughts yield too many emotions, so it’s better if you feel only a few.

I feel you creep out whenever you see the light, crawling out of my soul

and so I’ll try to bury you again before you do any harm.

open your mind so it closes less often,

lessen the waves until they calm down storm

be like everyone else so you don’t stand out the crowd.

it’s okay to change for people once you find out you’re content with yourself

and so I am now.

I’m happy.