Art wants you to die.
It wants you to surgically sever your arteries with an incision so sharp it goes unnoticed;
Art wants you to pour the blood from your veins, provide life for the leeches, to use your anguish for gain;
It wants you to give every bit of yourself for the entertainment of the masses, for the confusion of the critics;
Art wants you to breathe your last breath so that the breeze can lay a gentle wind in its pretense;
It wants you to lose yourself in its creation, to consume you in completion, to devour your existence;
Art wants you to die, but it wants to control you before you can escape;
It wants to raise you up while hollowing you inside.
Art is miserable without your misery;
It feeds off your happiness like a plague and drains you like the energy it gains.
Art wants you to suffer, to wallow, to reach the depths of your darkness;
It wants to use your emptiness as a vessel for its name.
Art wants you to pretend it is life
All while it pretends life.
Art wants you to die.
It asks, "Are you willing to sacrifice?"
CZYTASZ
Simply Poetry
PoezjaA collection of poems by Sean Arturo Last. You are encouraged to leave your interpretations in the comments. -- © All Rights Reserved (No unauthorized copy, distribution, transmission, or alteration of the work.)
