Stepping back from the flames
Far enough back to see the flickering and smell the wood
Out of the direction of the smoke
But able to feel it’s intense warmth
I set it all ablaze
Took all of him and put him on the pyre
And he was never more magnificent
than he was while I watched him slowly become himself
What he always was- a waste of my energy-
just the ashes of nothing being set free…
My Mind, My Mood, My delicately poisoned pen... 