Self Portrait

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Canvas like spring flowers Easel built of sweat and blood Paint, the colors of memories Painting the picture there I see it's me. I take down the portrait for all to see "Hey, do you see that girl?"
Self Portrait as the Weeping Willow   Reservoir in my eyes, current of my heart, snapped the twigs of my veins.   The fear, I feel. From My head to my toes.   
you won't find me in photographs packed in dusty tattered boxes.
Uneventfully I awoke. Unsurprisingly the sun beating hot on the single paned windows – Caused dew drops of moisture to form Dragging myself out of bed, Discarding one used shirt for another,
Skin like frozen glass  Eyes in pewter casts  My mouth writes an open invitation  For you to explore  The caverns these thoughts came from    Opulecent iris  Opaque navy eyelids
In the dead of night, crickets play their song. I lay on the cold dirt ground, while in your arms. Look up, you say. A diamond filled like sky. I see a smile.
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