I keep waiting to write the poem that changes everything. That twists my whole perception of the world and its perception of me too.
Is it obtuse to think that I have words worth reading thoughts worth seeing printed in ink and published on page after page?
Is it stupid of me to think I could quit everything else love nothing else and be one of those sad artists who dies alone in a room so inspired by my own complexities, that I don't need a view?
What is that like? To be so sure and passionate that everything else is static to know or at least feel like nothing is more beautiful or delicate than that art...
To never be abandoned again or fail or is it always failure?
And wouldn't I like to fail? Just for a minute and take it all back if the taste is too bitter.
I keep waiting to write the poem that changes everything. The poem that changes me. That makes me brave or better softer or stronger I don't care which.
I want to be that fluid, translucent being whose tears are written into her skin whose desires stream out like songs.
But I can't write that poem. And if I change anything, the one thing would change everything and I am scared to leave this girl whose skin is so thin and whose heart is open to bleed out with nothing more than a never-used, sharp pen if I never write that poem.