Self-Portrait

Sometimes, When my wounds feed, A river into eyelids, I see myself as a renowned, Dictionary of endless pains. I cover my cold body with smiles, On the day I worship God, My scars beneath, My prayer requests, Holds, me a witness. I paint myself in disguise, Before Him, Hold on to my rosary, Recite, Hail Mary, When my body should be, A reality of being dead.