I would like
to have the ability to produce beauty
of a caliber so high
a drug test of it would come back positive

I would like
to produce beauty with the pain of realizing
you’ve been living in a box your entire life
and what you thought were stars are just glow-in-the-dark stickers

I would like
to write something so intelligent
you’d question your whole existence
and then some

I would like to have the ability to paint the world
as accurately as a laboratory analysis

I would like to produce beauty
But everything I produce is as painfully average as I am