I wish I was a painter
seeing in lights and darks
and rainbow hues of hope
I wish I was an author
knowing in synonyms and foils
developing character with a known purpose and end
I wish I was a sculptor
feeling in curves and swells
delicately spinning worth out of dirt
I wish I was an architect
measuring in angles and stories
erecting power and industry
But instead I am a poet
writing in unending spiral staircases
and sidewalks that double back,
twisting my own pencil into hands that bite back
against their own mind
But instead I am a romantic
loving in hopelessness and unrequited need
casting away my happiness for the chance of a companion
pulling out my heartstrings in an endless game of
He loves me
He loves me not
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Journal Uploaded
PoetryThis is a digital copy of my physical poetry and prose journal. While it is meant simply to be a backup, I sincerely hope that you enjoy reading what you find in here! This journal goes back almost two years now so I hope I have improved, and I thin...
