I feel this. I’m filled with love, soft and sweet–caressing and empathetic almost to a fault. My tears falling for people I do not know and words I fail to say. I want more strong, steadiness in that divine love and will it to be loving toward myself as well, holy and pure to myself and my body– every imperfection.
Simultaneously I’m trying to store that deep rooted carnal rage somewhere else– in times when I need to dig deep, find my courage, voice, and shaking hands turn firm and clenched white bone with powerful confidence.
Because too often have I not loved myself enough, and gave myself fully and unconsciously to others who were not kind.
Too often have I lashed out too violently, and left hot wounds that guilt couldn’t take back.
I’m filled with divine love and undying rage