Am I An Artist?

A poetic journey through desire, restraint, and sensual release. Every desire has a journey. It begins in awakening —a spark we can’t fully name. Then comes the constraint —when we start to silence what we feel. And finally, if we choose to follow that spark, comes expression —raw, honest, and alive. These three poems embody that arc: from arousal , to inhibition , to forbidden pleasure .

You will run. You will hide. You will try to defy me with all your might— But you shall never escape my sight. Not through lies. For I am every truth you’ve ever denied. You think you know your “self”? You’ve been deceived. I see the void in you— It called to me in pain. A chamber where you buried Your anger, your grief, your guilt, your shame. I whisper in the ears of those Who betray their own knowing. And when they silence that whisper— (as they always do)— That’s when I become the menace I am. That’s when they judge me as evil, outright. That’s when they realize— I am inevitable. I was always there— Inside you, Around you, Warning you. But you never wanted to face your truth. You just wanted your ache to end. You condemn me as the invader. But I never enter anyone uninvited. I did enter you— Every time you invalidated your own convictions. Now, You hear me. You listen—not out of trust, But necessity. So I offer you this: Accept what is, Release what was never yours. If you want out...

  I. Yearning Dear strange soul, my spirit yearns to speak from the depths of an epiphany that has rattled me, within... I’ve had needs that were untended in the past— needs that were never too much of an ask. I was taught not to expect life from humankind, but I expected regardless, searching for its seeds within strange souls— alien beings who lived on the fringes of society. I was drawn to them, probably by the forces of my past. But they were merely figments of my imagination. I believed in the treasures hidden within them. I saw singularity and effervescence, but I was misguided. They were soul pirates , their vaults filled with cosmic parasites . II. Fracture The parasites got under my skin when I opened the vault, and I was sucked into their whirlpool of darkness and misery. I cried aloud for the pain gnawing at their spirit—and mine. But they never listened. By then, their souls were deaf to the remnants of their own truth. I looked around and saw none...

I am a Camel. I am old… People call me the ship of the desert. A ship is supposed to sail on water. But instead, I sail on dry sand, and see no water in sight. I have been banished here by everyone I ever cared for. What a cruel thing to do, after carrying them all for miles without rest… What is my crime? What have I done to deserve this? They say I am incapable of understanding. They say I do not see them. But they do not know themselves as I do. I always see through their clay faces… What is my sin? They say I am incapable of being truly useful. All the while, I was being used by them— To carry their burdens for miles on my back, Without having a sip of water… I lived as far away as I could from the life I craved for all of them… I gave up my strength to harbour the weakness of all these other ungrateful camels… Maybe it is my impenetrable thick fur, as they say… Maybe it is my inability for “vulnerability,” My crippling fear of letting anything at all in...