The lonely artist is not a fiction but a prediction
of the lonely lover
awaiting to discover
who we are.
I do not know you, do I ?
How could I when I do not yet know myself?
I see you. I hear you.
You are there.
In your eyes I see myself
as a reflection,
with it inherent loss of my full energy
and being, lost in your gaze.
This leaves me lost and dazed.
All you give me is a reflection of myself.
It is not enough.
It lacks your energy. Your being
you keep for yourself,
leaving me alone, grasping air.
Perhaps this is why we choose
to love only those who appear
most like our selves.
Disenchanted when all we are
able to embrace
is the reflected self.
Give me your true self.
Give me your art
not something set apart,
but different from me.
This is the value of diversity.
This love beyond self
only comes when we see
more than our own reflection,
are given new energy,
the energy of you.
Fear keeps us apart.
We fear knowing who we are.
We fear knowing who you are.
Fearing if we love you,
we will only see
our lessened selves.
annarino writes 