The Beauty That Is

Insecurity is mine and mine alone.

It taunts my confidence

Tears at my peace.

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A hovering grenade of dissatisfaction

Eyeing the landscape of my soul.

I know of it’s poisonous root

Yet I give it it’s demanded respect

An abuser that I want to assuage

I am not sure where to find the strength

To bury it in it’s appropriate resting place

Cover it with Mother Earth

Water it with heavens’ rain

And transform it into the beauty that is

Love of Self.