poem: too long for her twitter bio

art inspires art; like fire makes fire

and sex makes humans making love

making sex, dipping their hands

in red and painting

cities.

I met you when I was a conquerer,

I met you and

you tore me apart.

I was making grand endless forests

and populating them with leopards

and crying when I was lied to

and crying when I lied; the world

was completely mine.

you told me: the reflection in the window is not

schizophrenia or anxiety or tumblr.

you told me:

that i am not special. that i have no truth. that maybe

I could make art,

but I lost transcendence, I gave up Beauty

for the small pleasure of being right online.