the one that did

write
as much as you can,
anything... everything...
write the universe in your image.
write it as it is or as you feel it,
as you'd want it to be,
as it could become.
write it in purple
across the city walls.
write it through tears,
through the spirals of smoke,
through laughter,
through pain that shakes you to your core.
write truth, or lies, or dreams,
words randomly scattered on the page
they'll make sense eventually,
someday, to someone just as lost...
or found
or fond of this. all of this.
this beautiful mess we call life.

be the one that did
not the one that could have.