Nothing has an edge anymore.
It’s all same, same, same.
Blah.
I’m looking for something , anything
That bites back at you.
I’m not gonna sit here and tell you your art is worth it
That it’s an answer
It’s not an answer but a question
And we are all grappling with it
We are all drowning in our private answers
I’m not gonna reduce it to platitudes
the sun will come out tomorrow but 
This isn’t easy and might be completely meaningless
When no one sees it, maybe really no one sees it.
It just a bunch of screeching noise.
But know what?
That’s okay.
It might not be beautiful
But maybe it has an edge.
I’d rather do this than sit silent all soft and pretty
Waiting for the world’s end
What else am I going to do?