Hangover thoughts

Descartes' famous words,

    "Cogito ergo sum."

I think, therefore I am. 

In my mind's eye,

I think that children are born pure white.

I was, at one point in time.

But in this moment, I am chromatic gray;

My experiences painted in an optical mix of volatile violets and sorrowful yellows.

Who I am is seemingly defined by the time of day.

By daylight, I am camouflaged in pastels, 

Saccharine sweet and bubbly.

At sunset, a metamorphosis occurs. 

In the moonlight I am shrouded in passionate red and mysterious black. 

Enticing those around me, challenging them silently

To unravel me

To demystify me

Then bind me,

I wear different faces

As I go various places.

I dream and die as the moon waxes and wanes.

This week, I've sprinkled myself in arsenic green

As a warning to those around me to not get too close,

Lest my ministrations affect you. 

I strongly identify with Stravinsky's Sacre du Printemps,

I think of it as a reflection of my mind's eye. 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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