Cogito ergo sum.
Maybe I am the cracked white paint of your windowpane
Or the breath of the mist that paints it
Maybe I am the smell of the age in the books on your shelves
Or the dim glow of the bulb that lights them
Maybe I am the trees in your yard that reach out to the world with a thousand arms
Or the heavy rain storms that shield them
Maybe I am that leaf-scattered path
Or that porch drenched in sunshine that rises above it
Introspective
Collective
An incomplete thought
With a whole heart -
Self portrait,
Self portrait -
Green eyes look out
Maybe I am the memory of that house with the blue couch and black cat
Or the fenced field outside, that bird, or those sparkling nights
Those flowers that turned outward
As if reaching, but recoiling -
The plant that fed the fruit had made them twist so
Self portrait,
Self portrait -
Ash brown hair with a touch of red
The school -
The noises surrounding
Shook me,
Shook me -
Maybe I am the vibrations of the sounds in that room -
Or the door that kept them safe
Maybe I am the smell of the coming storm in the quiet
Or the sunlight and hush that heals in it's wake
Self portrait,
Self portrait -
Pale - speckled, freckled
Maybe I am those dull gray mornings Where all time seems to slow
Or the ghosts of your past in your walls
Maybe I am that graveyard that is littered with stones
Or the inscriptions on the nearby trunk of the tree
Maybe I am that hall in the building that is somehow darker than the rest
Or that room in which my mind fell to torture
Self portrait,
Self portrait -
A soul, simply -
One of millions in the world
A soul, simply -
A soul.
