a flowing stream of consciousness self-portrait
I am hopeful
Yet hopelessly in love
With the world
And the possibilities
I see when
The tip of my paint brush
Dances across a blank canvas
Transferring pretty paint
From container
To bristle
To canvas
Transforming it from
A noun (canvas)
To a verb (feeling)
That carries a piece of me
I try to pull back
But the world pushes me forward
Into the sun
Fresh country air
Dirt between my toes
Surrounded by green
Trees, plants, thoughts
Life
A constant chirping
Of ideas
Like the tick tock tick tock
Of the clock
I wait impatiently
Checking my memory
My internal storage space
At half capacity
For a song to sing
To soothe
To suggest
A positive to balance the negative
That has become so loud
I scream for peace and
Quiet
I need to escape
So I draw a map
Which has a key
That unlocks a door
To a garden where
I will sow my own seeds
And live with what grows
I’ll cut away the strings
Attached
With sharp scissors
To cut
And paste
Until I am at that point
A tiny black dot
Located on the map of my world
Where I believe
I am
Capable of
Succeeding
But prepared to fall flat on my face
Again
Because if I do not live
I will die
With regret.
