I Want To Be An Artwork

I want to be an artwork.

No, don’t say: You already are. You were molded to this shape and size, and every part of your body was created thoughtfully.

I already know that.

When I say I want to be an artwork, I mean, I want to feel like an artwork. I want to live like an artwork.

I want pictures to be taken not just of my face, but of the words behind my eyes;

Not just of my legs; but of the journeys they take;

Not just of my stomach; but of the things I hunger for and desire.

I want artistic x-rays to be conducted of me

Not just of my chest; but of the things that seize my heart;

Not just of my spinal cord; but of the things that support my very existence – and the people on whom I lean.

I want to be painted;

For bright colors to tell of my passions

And for dull colors to show the things I’m not very proud of.

I want to be a dance

So that I cause a stir,

Not just in the hands and legs of those who watch me, but in your hearts and actions.

I want to be music;

Healing and inspiring those who hear me.

And for there to be a melodious method to my interactions.

I want to be a story people write;

Whose plot never gets old.

I want to be an audio-visual-biblio-dramatic artwork.

I don’t even know what that means.

But I want to be such a great artwork that people would call me whatever I call me.


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