STARTING OVER

An original poem by Mandi J Smith

Can you call it starting over if you’ve done it 160 times before?
Because I swear it’s every Monday there’s a new me at the door
It’s in every facet of my life, it’s morning, noon and night
I fear there’s not a cell of me that will stay the same tonight

It’s about relationships—  when love becomes a long con
It’s about the way I think— dressing up bullshit with chiffon
It’s about my creativity— I carry ideas like raccoons’ disease
Maybe an artistic vaccination would put my bank account at ease

This masochistic transformation, the phoenix burns until it rises
Wins the oohs and ahhs from Looky Lous with a new version that surprises
A stellium’s weight, a scorpion’s sting, it’s a deathly transmutation
Indeed I do get off on it but I crave days of hibernation

I just want a little cabana in Mexico by the sea
Where I can run wild under the moon and have the means to finally be
That’s a fresh start I can get behind where I live a life that’s mine
That fresh start, fingers crossed, I won’t just write about all the time.