The Babe Cave

I'm getting back into me. I'm warm, I'm writing. I'm making playlists. I'm reading, I'm loving. I feel reborn. All the tears watered those little dead flowers in my chest.

 ; the candles will be lit every evening, the bed will always be warm. there will always be leftovers waiting for you in the fridge in a little container. there will be orange juice in there too. we will always be making something - singing something, writing something, drawing something, painting something. there will be fresh flowers and fresh coffee. we will be stoned and starry eyed. i will make a lot of playlists with just the right kind of warm music. there will be a lot of journalling. there will be a lot of marking of scripts, of monologues, of essays and poetry. there will be lots of underlining of favourite passages from books. there will be live plants and fake plants and fresh air. there will be lots of bed dwelling and settee dwelling. there will be hiking boots and yoga classes. welcome to the halfway house before the rest of your life ;