Raw emotion hits the page.
The tears are spilled.
The blood is drawn.
Heart flayed open,
Put on display for the world to see.
It is not enough.
Bleed me dry.
Empty my pockets.
Crack open my skull,
And pick through my thoughts,
One by one.
But still somehow,
When will any of this ever be enough?
Produce until your eyes are bloodshot
And your hand shakes.
Manufacture enough to meet the demand,
But never enough to fill the void they’ve left in you.
Sell your art.
Sell your mind.
Sell your heart.
Sell your entire soul.
Tell me, what are you worth?
Content creation has replaced fine art.
Don’t make enough content?
You’re no longer talented.
Why aren’t you doing more?
Why aren’t you making it better than them?
Why do you even try anymore?
Always on the outside looking in.
Never good enough to walk through the door.
I will always be here waiting,
Peering through the cracks.
Desperate to catch a glimpse of the holy grail.
I just want to know what magic I am missing.
I want to turn everything I touch into gold.
Where will I be when the dust settles?
Will there ever be room for me here?