waiting like ink drying

i dont sew dresses, i use some threads to bind and make some poems 

i don't paint, and i don't draw, but i create art in the brightest shades 

i don't cook, i hate the heat, yet i know methods and techniques, 

i cannot slice, i cant julienne, but I'm aware of where to put the knives

my feet's both left but my hands write 

the mirror cracks whenever i try, but i know how to voice my life 

so i lose on so many things 

but i have one thing that is mine. 

one I'm proud that I can do even when my eyes are gone 

i might not have the gracious strides 

or the steadiest pair of limbs

but i can make exciting lines

and all of these i hope you see

all of these i want you to see. 

and tell me that, 

"your shirt should be displayed in stores"

"your artworks deserved to be in galleries" 

"i want to memorize your recipes" 

"here's a band-aid for your cuts" 

"the floor's all yours and ill be here" 

"ill listen even if you do not speak" 

"and yes you don't possess so many skills

but you're one thing that is mine"

i hope you're proud 

i want you to be proud. 

see me behind all these lines. 

i hope you read these lines. 

if not yet then ill wait, 

maybe by then ive learned those other things.