No. -1


    Critique is no less essential to the artist’s soul than water.


    It is-


    mmmm(I am no artist.)


    -a good thing.


    ~


    No. -2


    If I could paint, I would immortalize your features


    In the sky: gold over blue,


    So that everyone could share in my laughter;


    For how absurd is it that you-


    -in all your perfection.


    -exist beside me.


    ~


    No. -3


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    We or I,


    All the same die-


    -the world won’t end, regardless.


    ~


    No. -4


    Peculiarly enough, I don’t think much of love-


    -or so I might have said, were I the lying sort.


    If such a thing as the soul exists, then surely-


    -and verily, I do proclaim: that love is:


    Sickness and wealth.


    ~


    No. -5


    The words will come.


    You need only open your heart to the truth.


    ~


    No. -6


    Let freedom ring from the highest mountaintops, but first know:


    You are a slave to the machine, stuck:


    Consent was never given.


    ~


    No. -7


    There is no glory in needlessly fighting battles where one might run.


    So calm yourself.


    Drink and be merry a few blocks south of the drunk.


    ~


    No. -8


    There is a sword in your heart;


    Steel or iron, maybe bronze-


    -probably rusted,


    Assuredly sheathed.


    Let it remain there, inert.


    Our world has little need of blades.


    ~


    No. -9


    In the frozen December air, I taste:


    Cold.


    ~


    No. -10


    I-


    -am


    -or was


    -and might have been


    Alone, once.


    But that was-


    -now


    -then


    -and possibly before


    I looked inside.