Possessive

I felt cold sitting
So I lit the fire again
Where is nature’s heat?

My chest hurt just now
This cold is bad for the heart
Where are my thermals?

I feel lazy and loose
I am thinking of my pans
How many have I?

In the beginning
We bough them in jumble sales
Or perhaps Woolworths

We got five bread boards
As Wedding gifts but no knife
Knives stand for hatred.

Mother love can hurt
If it is too possessive
The child must cut it

So we  must need knives
Tin openers and skewers
Sharp like a devil#s curse.

What has cut women?
Where is our protection?
Where is our saviour?