In the middle of a dream
I awake on a date
the day of my own wake
I'm in an Artist Way
sitting down in the
Artist Lounge
trapped between
two chapters
holding on to scripture
so profound
it's too hard to
put it down
on an Artist Date
my reflection in the mirror
watching me, watching me
touching my face as if
I'm blind and haven't
seen myself
in a long time
going over thoughts
in my head
what color ink
should I choose
black, blues
or standout red
eating healthy to
stand on what I'm fed
keeping it all together
like gluten in bread
up all night
so many books I've read
have yet to see
the sheets on my bed
totally understanding
that I am not complete
eagerly waiting to see
what I become
when the Artist
finishes me