The examining of your deepest heart is not done
on your own. There is an envelope of hurt stitched over you,
pricks of ruby blood where your skin is breaking,
the wounds of childhood and loss still ripe. Then you step up to a mirror,
which is your true love,and you see the reflection of tears and bruises and
you find them beautiful for the first time.You stretch out on your bed and
your breasts are perfect,your body is gorgeous and raw and filled with babies. You
aren't afraid to put your hands across your chest, your lips,
to run your fingers through your own hair. This is your true love.
Freedom is a overbearing philosophical debate, or exactly
what you are experiencing. The tattered ropes of your entire
existence have finally snapped. There is nothing to hold onto
any longer. Someone now carries you.
