Inspired by the painting The Treachery of Images by René Magritte.

You see a Victorian portrait painted of you
not by you but by those who think they know or knew
you:
Your hair, bright blonde and long and feminine
Your mouth, bold smile, exuding confidence
Your skin, finest china, no blemish, only porcelain
Your body straight-backed, posture perfect
Your hands atop one another, tucked in, reserved
Your blue eyes alive, sapphires that gleam
Your name, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl

The title reads as such,
This is a painting of you; this is not
you.

I pick up spray cans, graffitied in the missing parts,
showing those who knew and think they know
who I think and know
I am:
My hair, blonde, sometimes dyed black, short, tomboy.
My mouth, smiling to hide insecurity and anxiousness.
My skin, combination of freckled cheeks and pores left unclean.
My body, slouched, crooked, yet all the same, comfortable.
My hands, constant in their motion, moving along in my speech, defiant.
My blue eyes, puddles rippled by muddy shoes, murky.
My name, Itallian for and then, and I continue the story as them.

Red splatter line across the old title,
new title reads as such,
This is graffiti of me, this is truthfully, unapologetically,
me.

Cogito Ergo Sum (read aloud)