This only needs to be told in four parts
I. Before
The artist could write sentences better than this
She could put together
Coherent thoughts
Ones that once sounded beautiful
Or at least intelligible
Before
The artist didn’t have to cling to her sanity
II. The Rip
The world is on fire
The artist is on fire
Her head burns with pain and rage
Of things that happened and didn’t and only happened in her head
And things that weren’t as bad or as deep as she thought they were
Or of things that she clung to instead of her sanity
This was the moment when she should have clung to her sanity.
III. The Grasp
Now the artist grasps at the air for something that isn’t there
The artist then clings to the people
Who can only hold her up so far
And she tries to hold on
To herself
But
She isn’t there either
IV. Now
I want you to guess what happens now
I want you to look at me and tell me what happens now
You look at the shell that stands before you and you tell me
What exactly is supposed to happen now
Now that she’s nearly given up on herself
But not yet.
That last bit is what she clings to the most
And I’m never letting that go.
valentine 