Reading something, suddenly overcome by compassion for myself, the tears start to come. I see myself in a different light, untainted by the distortion of human perception, free from misunderstood values. Inside, I break into pieces from the realisation of self-imposed hated and judgment. Grief engulfs me as the tender beauty of truth cannot be disguised without paying the price.
“Not even the hardest of rocks can resist the seductive caress of water.”
So much of me is water
I see how gentle I am
How could I have thought I was less than pure?
I see how I affected the rock
With a sweet caress of my soul.