art keeps getting
smaller and smaller
like we have
less and less time
to really create a body
of work strong enough
to break through the
barriers of the mind.
i can make a list of
the people i have kissed
and call it poetry for days i can
write an anthem on **** culture
with words i do not understand
or use
and judge my creativity
based on all my views.
there is never the right time
to sit down and syphon the
truth from your palpitating heart.
sometimes you find the time
in between the spaces of
the mundane and draw
or paint or
film or
write
something that will
take someone’s breathe away.
even if it is your own.
there is no easy way to
make a lasting impression
on a soul you don’t quite
know or understand.
but
if your heart feels lighter
at the end than when you began
then you are making
progress.
