They will tell you how “Anthony Bourdain” mentioned “hanging’’ on his show for 63 times before he finally “hanged himself
They will tell you how Chester Bennington flirted with “quitting” before he finally did it.
They will tell you how “all roads lead to home” but maybe because it sounds uncomplicated that way.
They will tell you that there is more to life but maybe this more never comes to your rescue when anxiety pays you a visit
Because they will never tell you, let me tell you this
This is for you who sings, writes, dances, acts, studies or just smiles stupidly
Locked up in a room with lifgts off and doors closed
This is for you who paints the face of love and revisits the phone conversations n your head
When the world is asleep and the stars are aligned
This is to tell you that maybe no one will hear it
Maybe no one will hear your word’s monologue
Maybe no one will look beyond your strokes
Maybe no one will untangle the notes
Because they will never tell you to not stop
That it doesn’t make anything you create less glorious
Because they will tell you how she jumped off the cliff or overdosed on pills
But they will never tell you that her/his art screamed of love she was drenched in.
Because no one will tell you.