If I could draw confidence, I would live my self portrait.

If I was an abstraction artist
I would graffiti manic depression all over walls,
just because.
I would sculpt your phonetic alphabet,
all the sounds you've ever fucking made,
and scream sense at them,
knowing you'll never hear it.
I would paint myself green with envy,
hurling house-brick curses at my canvas friends.
They'd be better in watercolour, though,
so I could spit in their faces,
and watch the colours slip,
slide away.
Watch the facade fall,
and I would be master again.

If I could draw confidence, I would live my self portrait.

 

visceral, very cool. however, maybe consider adding a line break between "confidence" and "I" and then making the entire poem into one verse instead of a huge chunk with a tiny exiled little line for a conclusion... it builds and builds and then kind of chokes at the end (IMO because of the new verse which strikes me as kind of thin)

 

nice.

 

I really enjoyed this poem. Nice work.