I would paint myself a writer

writing in my shoebox apartment,

thousands of pages

strewn about my room

beautiful nonsense 

covering every single one

I'd create stories 

about sad girls 

and lost boys.

My stories are my children

and I'd spend every day 

with them.

I would paint myself a writer

looking for adventure,

taking risks.

Anything to uncover

insane inspiration.

I'd listen to absurd stories

from atrange characters.

A homeless man 

in a tuxedo

would tell me

he is the captain 

of a ship

that sails across 

seas of monsters.

I would paint myself a writer,

acting like one,

eating like one -

a strict diet:

coffe and cigarettes.

I'd meet with other writers.

We;d talk about 

music, poetry, politics,

anything.

As long as we had

our caffeine and cancer sticks

to keep us going.

I would paint myself a writer.