by way of human condition

I am the artist, I tell this pen what to do.
You give me action, I'll tell you how to react.
And with experience? Let me spell t-h-i-s--- out:

And that which makes me uncomfortable
(there I may cry about it.)
And that which makes me vulnerable
(there I may be resistance.)
And that which heals me
(there we grow strong about it.)

With this pen, I can delete
e-t-e-l-e-d- delete,
no one saw what could have been
this past was created in my mind only.

In my mind there lives a fantasy
I repeat- my mind, my body, my living disparity

I hate everything I write.
d-e-l-e-t-e-t-e-l-e-d--
you never saw what could have been,
this future I created from within.