Self-Portrait

I am a Picasso painting

perspective shattered

then glued back together, but the parts

are all mixed up

trapped in 2D, framed

frozen into almost unrecognizable likeness

One eye sees outward

the other is sideways

I see only two flat parts of a round world

My leg is over there, but my torso is here

I will not walk out of here

Whole

My arm was captured

waving goodbye to my head

Only you can decipher the meaning

of red lips

pasted on a pale cheek

the flattened nose that cries

for the plastic surgeon’s fix

a torn orange dress

one I would never wear

I reek of turpentine