I want to be a hermit writer, consumed by mind, free from society
like the unknown artists of every era –
The dancer under city rain, musician by underground train grime, tattoo artist in a street parlor.
I want to write how I feel, wrap the words around my fingertips without hesitation, a writing
borne from hunger, sustained by deep love,
writing until my fingers callouse, writing for simple pleasure, writing when arthritis takes over my hands and I stare at the ceiling one last time.
I want to take leaps of faith, bounds of it, I want to write for you and everyone I love in this tragic world we call home.
I want to be a brave person,
like when you let go of the handle bars
and realize you have not fallen.