Self Portrait

red, green, orange, and purple lines-

blocks of color placed simply

wherever she felt necessary.

somehow the scraps make a face.

the lips look like burnt hot dogs

from her fifth birthday barbecue,

and the nose could be an overhead view of her pet guinea pig.

the eyes are

unusual

and somewhat menacing,

enough to shock a person

who happens to wake up

in the night and finds the eyes

five inches from their face.

they have a distressed quality as well,

and in the darkness of the night

you can almost hear the five year old

mastermind of the art project:

"i just couldn't fall asleep-"

it's a safety hazard, really;

going to give someone a heart attack.

above her head is hair like a big lump of butter,

mushing over her face

and into the foreground.

i suppose it's a great thing to be five.

all of these scraps of paper and paint

and memories and perceptions

pasted together

remind yourself of you.

and you don't forget who you are

because there you are.

you simply perceive

yourself

into existence.