You wish

people wish they could create but they bruise too easy
they don’t know what creation is
it aint love
it aint paint by numbers
it aint wishing and not trying
it’s knocking chips off your block
it’s knocking chips off your shoulder
it’s laying chips down at the table of your failures
roll the dice, you fucker
roll the tape, cue the music, drop the lights, drop your guard, loose your bullshit
say it, mean it, start it
if you aren’t gonna get in then get the fuck out
what do you want?
what is your need to slay us?
what is the gift you bring to us, to our jaded eyes
better make it good
better make it bloody
better yet, make it better than bloody, make it dirty
we like abuse, too, so fuck you
give us ourselves in a dirty mirror
tell us we are shit, tell us why, tell us how, make us hate us
we’ve got a new date every day with someone dying for our applause
adulation is the currency of the craven, and you crave it
the creator of tomorrows genius masterwork is scratching his arse today
the creator of tomorrows junk art is scratching his arse today
you’ve got an arse, so scratch it
give us something we can use
give us a line we can quote

or better yet, give us your jugular, fail, and let us tear out your throat