Sometimes i think of
who i once was-
especially the person i "would be"
in my head as a child

who i would be, existing
as my own idea of where
i should be living
and being.

without any real
tools to paint this picture
i made a mess of
my self image.

not then,
but now.

because now i'm not sure if
any of the pictures i painted
were ever looked at closely

standing back equates all my desires
yet up close i begin to fall apart
as my microscopic eyes
tear that which
fell under my hand