Narcissistic

Sat here with my book in my hands,
elbows on my knees,
Felt my heart beat through every part of me,
and I had to get up and do something.

Found a sharpened pencil, glinting in the lamplight,
Found the smooth expanse of a new piece of paper,
and instead of words an image came to mind.

I drew without design but not without a pattern,
I drew without purpose but not a meaning,
I drew her face because the look in her eyes haunts me--

Funny how I missed it back then.
Back then, I only had eyes for myself.