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 
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 
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 
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 
But prepared to fall flat on my face 
Because if I do not live 
I will die
With regret.