I want to be an artist

I want to be an artist.

i want to write words like i bleed

ink onto paper bandages, leaking scrawled thoughts.

i want to paint like I bruise

colours blossoming under skin, pouring life into pale ivory canvas.

i want to make people feel my words like i feel theirs and hear their hearts beating in the chests as they live each word and catch each breath; i want you to believe in the beauty around in every word that's spoken i want you to feel alive with promises that will and can be kept in secret worlds of canvas sunsets i want you to feel my maelstrom of thoughts with heightened senses i want you to taste the sound of life in every gasp of air i want you to embrace the world and feel it sink into your bones.

i want to be an artist

but i'm not brave enough.

i can't keep tearing open these veins to pour my life onto blank canvas. i daren't rent a hole in this fragile world of mine, or come out from my mind's attic to search its basement for things i find beautiful. i fear small spaces.