The Cutting-Room Floor

Something beautiful must be torn away In order to see the beauty within Lest my perception be led far astray I dim the lights, distort my vision, Assuring the audience all will be okay. Unleashing an exhibition of lewd Visuals, lurid deformities displayed, Stitched in the fabric of something so crude. The truth is that I’m not comfortable now, Not ever, and I need to remove the pieces That are superfluous to my empowerment and the lessons that each word teaches As I rip out the heart from the palette The tongue is bestowed new florid pleasures.