By
Riley Dyson
Published
Jan 9, 2024
Is it bad? she asked Sometimes
Is it good?
Sometimes.Just tell me, she said with frustration,
what is it?
I leant over and whispered into her ear,
I'm an artist
What are you scared of? Reinstates the therapist.
I aided the perverseness of the old writer and I shot him in the head, now I became me without him, therefore I died too.
Go slow my son, but go.
