I create art that relates to me
I’ve learned to not let what others think
Portray my ways
I have a constant feeling of needing to create
I have a constant feeling of not being enough
Because I missed so much growing up
My grandma was an art teacher
She taught me a lot
I wish I listened on the spot
My confidence got in the way,
My childhood stirred the pot
Depression likes to creep up on me.
My confidence stinks. It likes to spit on me
Call me names
My mood switches fast, like when curvy roads in Italy
I wish I could paint Italy
I wish I could paint a smile.
I create art that makes me happy
I release my feelings when feeling unhappy.