The Artist Inside Me

It looks like straight edges and flawed faces.
It takes inspiration from unfamiliar people and unfamiliar places.
It yearns to be noticed, but it hides from the judgement.
It's deeper than just shapes and colors; it has meaning.
It uses expression as way to vent.
It hates being called the wrong thing.
Everywhere it goes, it sees emptiness.
Dying to capture everything that catches its eye.
But somehow it thinks it's impossible to compress
everything it sees into one goodbye.
So it escapes to the dead sea.
It's the artist inside me.

Indecisiveness

You scratch your head as you consider all your options,
You're tired being asked, "What do you want to do?"
And, "Why can't you ever make a decision?"
It's similar to a sunny day being covered by grey.
All your closest friends recognize your problem.
They always hold out their hands and say, "pick one,"
Or put their hand to their forehead with frustration.
You wish you wouldn't be afraid to let your voice be heard.