Kick Backs and Grab Bags: A Poetic Reflection

Take it easy. So breezy. Just be. So what are you saying?
Be… differently? Cause I am something,
certainly not wearing my best face,
But the expression is the one I’ve been given.
Give me a minute, I’m wrestling. Poor programming telling me,
To find something nice to say. Has me sorting through the garbage you’ve thrown at me.
*Pointing at the hazardous waste tossed through the mirror reflecting back at me*
A version, my very own beast to appease. Capable of anything done until I air out the reflection,
Takes a little dissection, which then leads to direction, releasing points of infection.
Into convection to burn at the stake. Until ashes become me,
and I, the beauty I seek in each sunrise I wake to in peace.
Sweet release, the relief, of resting in hands bigger
than the boulder I came in pushing, for some reason I lay to rest, a forgone piece.
Inviting that version to come away with me, come stay with me, play with me.
We can swing through each scene given, just passing over a stage.

The turn of a page. Poof energy exchange, all that remains, is beautiful to me.

Working on it… some cold paint to stroke in.
Gotta climb a little higher than I’ve liked,
had to dig in to gain height.
Until I was free to grab the sunlight.