My Dearest Aru,

I love you all over again.

In that deep unrelenting way.

And it is glorious.

My heart beat beat beats for you.

Boom boom boom.

My chakras spin for you.

And my feelings.

Oh. My feelings.*

 

We are buddies again.

It is glorious.

And I realise.

All over again.

And again.

 

How can I love you?

If I don’t love myself?

 

How can I honour you?

If I don’t honour myself?

 

How can I respect you?

When I don’t respect myself?

And so.

 

To love you,

I’m listening to me.

To my insides.

Hearing them say,

 

Karishma, take time out.

Karishma, stress less.

Karishma, do a little dance.

Karishma, get take aways tonight.

Karishma, go to work and do what you love.

 

Karishma.

Feel no guilt.

Feel no fucking guilt my child.

Just love yourself and the rest will follow.

 

And for you Aru,

I have the deepest, heartfelt, bloomingly, wild delightful love.

All for you.

Because I started with me.

 

X

K

 

*Sometimes my poetry comes from lines I’ve heard / read in the past. I don’t know how it seeps into the keyboard. But this line (and I had to share for you Jane Austen enthusiasts – comes from here (https://youtu.be/CgkS5_PTfZQ)  at 1:10). SWOON Moment!