-Untitled-
When I was young
I dreamed of being an artist
I wanted to paint
saw me covered in colors
wanted to be van gogh or maybe dali
but sometimes brushes choked on the concepts
so i painted with my hands
dipped in too many colors
swirling them together onto papers
mixing
they always looked like dreams
or reality seen from squinted eyes
i wanted to sculpt
saw me elbow deep in clay
sculpting images pulled from my eyelids
i longed to show the world something
wanted to mold these handmade mysteries
the things seen when my eyes close
sought to offer them up as tributes
to unseen muses
my hands always coated with dust
proof of my existence
i wanted to create
channel the only divine thing these mortal hands can do
i wanted to touch
something
to be
something
but somewhere along the years
this creation dream became impractical
no parent wants their daughter to be
a starving artist
they said get a degree and work hard
behind a desk
9-5
mon thru fri
weekends off
repeat
this is responsible baby
and practical honey
and adult sweetie
creation is just a hobby
it will never feed you
and i listened
muscled through 4 years of university
and graduated with a bachelors degree
still housing a spirit drawn to create
you see
dreams deferred dont shrivel
they are no raisins in the sun
these are massive planets exploding
reshaping universes when theyre done
these days the weight of those dreams
falls on me like crushing boulders
knocking wind from fleshy lungs
cracking back my folded shoulders
broken open my heart and spirit
daylight flowing in as streams
fresh air cultivating promises
baby-
dont let go of those dreams