I’d like to think I’m a poet

with symphonies of words 

flowing from my pencil 

but I’m not

Not that anyone thinks I am

I’d like to think I’m an artist

blessed with the ability to move people

with a single brushstroke 

but I am not unfortunately 

Though I wish I was 

So much I wish I was

I’m so much more in my head than on paper

I like to think I’m...

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I wish i could draw

there’s so much 

going on in my head 

i just want others to see my reality

but i also want 

to capture the beauty i see

or that i imagine

i try 

to put it on paper 

but the lines don’t connect

maybe i’ll stick with words

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I sometimes find myself

staring at walls

deep in thought 

is it meaningful thought

probably not

but i’m lost anyways 

staring and thinking 

of what could be 

what will be 

and what is currently passing me by

while i’m lost in thought 

my life slipping 

through my fingertips

i really want to paint my walls

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