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Crumpledbigskin
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Dandelion Hands
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I want to create To maybe find those who relate But my struggles feel inadequate And all I make just simulates What I can’t explain And it feels like I feign These difficulties, opportunistically To capitalize off my pain To make art from something difficult Yeah, I know it can be healing But how much do I rely On self-destructive feelings Will I better myself if the fuel for the fire Is demoralizing patterns Is it really constructive? To wait for the next bad thing to happen Is it inspiration Is it a way of confronting? Am I stagnating? Or am I overcoming? I feel like sharing this Is so unbecoming And though I want to vent And pay the rent Perhaps it’s better to do nothing How much do I undermine My own and others trauma? When I quickly repurpose it As sellable melodrama? Sometimes I doubt my self so much Are my tragedies authentic Or just a creative writing tool For me to make a buck quick? To make art from something difficult Well, I know it can be healing But how much do I rely On self-destructive feelings?
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