What I wanna be

I want art to pour out of me like sweat or like tears, actually more like blood. I want you to look at me and see every part of me is saturated by it. I want paintings with scratches and poetry with bruises, I want to make real life beauty. Beaten down and messy, beautiful work. Sweaty and dirty, bottom of the pond mud drenched concepts, I want you to read my mind. I am lonely and lost don't worry I know where I am going. If I could break your bones, or my own bones, with words I would. I would paint the sky with almost somethings and not quite rights, I would make a place for you to belong. Art is my blood, art is my family, art is my place to belong. My home my shelter my 4 a.m. phone call, I think I've finally made it. With bloody feet and ripped open callouses I am here on your doorstep, I am something more than myself, my heart beats far past the idea of me. Goosebumps from a dance or a kiss or a really great love letter, is where I want to live. On a pile of mistakes or on a heap of disappointments is probably where you can find me, but I'm looking up to the stars. 

-J