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Deviation Actions

Published: Mar 20, 2011

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Literature Text

_{I've died a thousand deaths today.

What do you mean?

One- heart entagngled in razor wire.
Two- Inhaled too quickly and I stopped breathing.
And so and so on.
I wouldn't wish an artist's life on my worst enemy.

… I don't get it.

Be happy you don't.

But what do you mean by dying?

Have you ever stepped on broken glass?

Once.

Hurts, doesn't it?
Imagine walking a thousand miles through a desert
Sand gritting against bloody soles
Digging into jell-o bones,
No oxygen, no nothing,
But a burning reminder of what was?

You're being weird again.

Maybe. But that's how it's like, for me, at least.

Or maybe I'm not being clear. Let's say,
You're holding a delicate flame, encased in fine crystal,
And you're trying to carry it without dropping it
Over paper thin ice in the dead of winter,
Hands burning

And you can't let go
You can't let go
Can't let go

I'd call you stupid.

You'd be right.

Then why would you do that?

Because that flame
Is more goddamn beautiful
Than anything else that has ever been.}