sweet haven of mine,
warm milk with honey,
the chest a place of warmth,
after destruction there seems to be a place of silence,
after silence and space and the comemeration of what has died,
there is birth,
pears and grapes form a salad in my mouth,
dripping in its natural glaze,
I wonder why aggression and hurt can feel so overbearing,
in that state you can not feel rational,
you know no other language,
love does not spur off the tongue,
instead I wallow in the fountain of hurt in my mouth,
my ears fill up with old lies,
but that will only cause resentment,
today,
I woke up with the intention of purity,
of being a Lady with power,
with hope,
today,
I felt the glowing inside myself again,
Teaching me that you can feel,
even if you do want to merge back into the universe..