i want to be a writer i want to build you cathedrals out of paragraphs and catch your footfalls with my pages you would laugh, not soft or delicate and you would run and i would keep turning pages rewriting love if you needed a change of pace
i want to be an artist i want to crush berries against our skin to make a color you've never seen before you would grin and it would stain your fingers and you would stay for a bit
i want to be a poet silk falling from my tongue in trellises and you'd catch it and weave it around us like a battered quilt worn but well loved and the words would keep us warm
We get it You’re the elderly flower child Living on your hippie dreams Love is your prescription For coming apart at the seams Peace and groovy And get a little ****** You think it’s that easy Must be nice for you To be a trust fund baby