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Art is a struggle

That rips your heart out and creates a whole

That you must fill in with music

Or dance

Or brush strokes

I’ve been writing poetry for four years now, and yet this piece somehow manages to be the one closest to my heart. It expresses how no matter how hard you fight for something, if you don’t allow yourself to be vulnerable or allow yourself to be weak, you’re going to end up breaking down anyways no matter the defenses you have up. I’ve struggled with vulnerability myself my whole life, and I used to only show cracks of my weakness through humor, but I’m slowly learning how to open up to others and I hope this piece inspires people to do the same.

I don’t remember where this bruise came from,

it couldn’t have been from

bleeding myself out, I promise

that I’ve never done that

it couldn’t have been from

clenching my fists, I swear