If I had the perfect collection
to adjust a musing to relatable truth,
I’d aim to perpetuate the life lessons
I learned and value from my youth.
If I had the perfect installation
to walk you through a never-ending story,
I’d paint you a beautifully, tragic picutre
of a childhood drenched in untamed glory.
If I had the perfect words
to tell you stories of infamy,
I’d say that narrative burns loud and sweet,
beginning first with me.
If I had the perfect silence
to rock you to your core,
I’d stare holes right through you
so you could feel me forevermore.