the ones who know

this is for the writers the photographers
painters and filmmakers this
is for the dancers the singers
the artists the children
with fingerpaint
throwing tantrums this
is for the ones who know
that to be born inside a thing
to live inside to breathe
inside a thing you have to care
enough to die a little death
and i’m sorry if you aren’t
nodding please feel free to walk
on this it’s not about you this
is for the ones who know
the spark that sets the fires
blazing causing squirming
madness causing all
the little deaths in pain and doubt
and fear the everkiller fear is ever
present with the spark that is
as well the only road to light
in life worth living by
and this is for the spark the one
you sometimes wake up feeling
leading you to doom and this
is for the wanting this
is for the writers the photographers
painters and filmmakers this
is for the dancers the singers
the artists the children
all of them half mad and hiding
in piles of props and clothes
their vanity and fear the ones
who know the weird and ugly
broken fat and thin the handsome
sad the stunted storytellers
they who are brave
they who are strong
of will enough to ride against
themselves to catch a glimpse to make
a glimpse of beauty this
is for the ones who know
but don’t believe
they are beautiful.

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