art that stretches past skyscrapers,
not scraping the sky but high-fiving it, stabbing it.
the sky is a beautiful thing,
meant to bleed.
but some people are pacifists,
they preach against the stabbing,
that the sky is just like us.
when it is scraped,
a bandaid is slapped across it.
and the work is soon forgotten.
in order to be remembered,
you gotta make it bleed deep,
let rain drip from cuts in the clouds.
some people don't like the blood we produce,
calling it painful and strange.
but beauty is pain
and no pain no gain.
the sky was made to be scraped and stabbed.
it can take our abuse,
so why can't you?