maybe Van Gogh
only ever wanted to be Vincent
only ever wanted a fraternity of painters
but he couldn’t quite meet minds with Gauguin
couldn’t find the quiet of his own mind
even slashing his way to semi-silence
still could only paint sweeping strokes
of his beautiful sorrow
i can’t find the beauty in my sorrow
and have no desire for the guild of grief
but somehow i think if i could just stay
in the silence of this music
bathed in the blues of Vincent’s Irises
and weep with the winds of his star-filled night
i might emerge bereft of you
but whole
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