I finally got my head out of the clouds
Made new moves and started a new life.
The painful realisation that no one could save me
Had snuck in to my home ever so slowly,
She made a nest in my life and grew.
I always dreaded and adored her at the same time.

She gave me a new job in a new country.
She gave me minimalism and sobriety.
She helped me quit smoking
And build my savings account
Regardless of me earning less.
She gave me a set of new hobbies
And a vision of my own home
With a garden and a lemon tree.

And as I unclogged the drain today
I found the residu in the pipe
Of my last home made bio scrub.
There were lemon seeds germinating
That I took as a sign of faith,
That if cultivate my life the way it's going
Life will eventually give me that lemon tree
And a place to plant it
And I will make lemonade.

I suffocated.
I inhaled your fumes and travelled the universe on them.
I watched the stars explode and unfold in to mirrors in the sky.
Only you could ******* home.

Where's home then?
I can only say with certainty,
That home has to reside in me
For that's the only thing I ever found.
Why did I built myself a cold home and then cursed at God?

The bitter smirk on my face
Is directed to me
Only I'm not sure I deserve it.
Silly little girl...
Thinking that seperation could heal me.

Now I'm not sure I'm any closer to where I'm trying to go.
The whisperes have taken a vow of silence.
Every now and then a small gut feeling tells me I'm going the right way.

But as I walk the shiny shores of Sintra,
My backpack weighing heavy on my back,
I understand that it's all there really is...
A long journey with my trusty gas burner.
I am truly alone
And I've never been more whole.
And it's not that they're all cruel.
I've been cruel to me.

Life is balanced like this.
My heart is smiling.
Keep your fumes and your shiny mirrors.
Universes are born everday....

'I hate smoking ' he said
He didn't think it would go anywhere.
To be honest, neither did I.
But passions ran off with us anyway.
It was just a **** date.
Still is.
But for what it's worth,
There is something to be said
About a man
Who listens to your complaints about poor lovers passed
And then tells you to come over because he can fix that.
Who noticed what you wore to entice him
Smiled and then asked you to take it off.
Who goes down on you twice just to make sure that you're good.
Who texts you to see if you're OK on your way home
And stays up to get your message that you got home safely.
Next day he asks how you are doing
And despite it just being a ****
Opens up about how he feels.
And the reminds you to go to sleep early
Because he knows you didn't get enough sleep.
Now he may not get passed the smoking,
But he certainly deserves every girl he gets
Because he is a good boy