i want to write.
i want to study art.
i want to move
to the city
and live in a cozy apartment
and take lots of pictures
and capture the souls
of artists
and hookers and
runaway kids
and the barista
with the red glasses.
& maybe someday
my work will end up in
an art show at the local
coffeehouse where all
the hipsters go
and someone will ask who
my biggest inspiration was
& i'll remember
last winter when
i didn't think
i'd live to see 23
but you saved me with
brown hair and dimples
and
green eyes.
& i'll give some speech
about
victory and Dadaism and
see you across the room
sipping coffee in your
blue jacket and i'll
smile and say
thank you.