yes, you
(you)
yes, you with your pencil hovering
over the paper
too scared to mar
a canvas;
you with the can of cerulean spray paint,
poised to let colors scream
out all of your failings.
(only)
only, the sirens are howling,
the unwanted catcalls,
and Radioheads,
and no one is waiting
in the moonlight
at the end of your bed.
(write)
write, if it helps,
of the songs in your head,
of the color of red,
and why you do not understand
his voice when he told you "no".
(once)
once, Holden Caulfield gave up,
romanticism did him in,
but it won't conquer you
not anymore, not once you engrave
riots on the concrete,
and feed lyrics into the typewriter,
and ink your calf with the words:
#YOWO