Creative. Empath. Flawed. Present. Chosen for the furnace of affliction. Preserved in perseverance. Love is what I chose, so it’s what I propose.
After many tests, trials, assessments, a conclusion has been drawn. For your lack of self-love you have been deemed a lost cause impossible to love. Whether you were loved or not is of no consequence when what is found at the bottom line is that if you do not love you, how can anyone else? You are the fool. The chagrin of your fellow denizens. How you chose to live your life spoke louder volumes than your tongue ever could. One last ditched effort of embellishment is that you weren’t fully cognizant of your disposition. There it is again. But I digress.
To have known then, what I’ve grown in. I envision that home is to be honed in. Known in. To grow into, grow in. Be grown in, to have been grown in. Where you are your own in.