The Signature

In my own mind, Bob Dylan loves my poetry.

Monet admires my brushstrokes.

Eleven doors open, and I go to the clerk.

I approach him and ask him to keep records of all my doings.

In my own mind, I see horses approaching

going home but rushing on a misty mountain.

And I flock with them, these gorgeous creatures full of courage.

In my own mind, Michelangelo sculpted my hands so I can write better.

Elvis gives me the vibrato in his voice,

and God pats me on the back, saying, "Good job."

All of them are the parents of my dreams.

And in my own mind, I'm no orphan to hearing "no" to my feelings.

In my own mind, I've always been told I mattered.

In my own mind, I can be anything.

So I just pretend that this whole time I've been told to never sit

To stand where you can, and even sit in places without merit

I've been great before I've seen the light at the end of the tunnel of my mother's womb,

and I will be the greatest this world has ever seen.

Or so I was told, by many idols.

You could say, the existentialism and my narcissism comes from an emptiness not so rare.

But I love it. At times, I just pretend I've lived in a chapel where old spirits roam,

and they whisper that I've yet to become because I've never basked in the sun.

I've never licked my own collarbone, and the wrists I paint with were to be slit with a chain

rubbing the metal on my skin until it grows sorer.

And I suffer, and I've suffered, and told myself that could be how I matter.

But I hate it. I don't want it anymore. So I pretend, and I love it.

The clerk called me one cold winter.

He said, "Here are your chef-d'oeuvres, but I need your parents' signatures first."

I replied, "It's fine,they've gone away on a trip. They'll be back later."

"But I need a signature," the clerk insisted.

I told him, "I'll sign it. I've mastered the ink of the curse,

and I can curve their handwriting even better than I did months ago

when I carried that knot in my shoulder. Here, I'll show you."

I added this as I carefully wrote their names on paper.

"See? Mine's even better"