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Emery Feine Nov 16
Dear Dreamer,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that no one loved you the way you loved them.
I'm sorry no one stood up for you when you needed it, like how you did for them. He never got the prison sentence he deserved.
He never moved on from you. He knew he could never replace you, and yet he hurt you, and I apologize.
They never reciprocated their feelings, even after you poured your heart into them.

I'm sorry that you recognized their footsteps and had to live in fear.
They didn't fight for you when you needed it, but blamed you, and for that, I'm sorry.
They told you that you were the "troublemaker" and the "angry daughter", but why were you angry?
I'm sorry that they crushed your dreams, Dreamer.

I'm sorry that you had to leave.
I'm sorry that they talked about you behind your back, insulting your name.
They destroyed everything you've ever touched and spread nasty lies about you.
I'm sorry that they altered the truth, the same truth you wished people had heard.

I'm sorry that they had tried to crush the hope and heartbeat of a child.
They turned your blazing fire into a simmering ash, and it was almost fully diminished.
But you kept it burning nonetheless, and you kept dreaming.
So though I am sorry that I wasn't always there, I was always hopeful.
Keep dreaming, My Dreamer.

Best Regards,
You <3
this is my 131st poem, written on 11/15/24
Emery Feine Oct 29
do you hear the sizzle of my lungs
as they slowly burn to ashes?
my head is an anchor, weighing down
bringing me to the floor
i cannot breathe
i am aching
the doctor said i was fine
but the moment i left
and breathed in the poisonous fresh air
i wheezed
i could not breathe
my lungs were on fire
some people pretend im fine
but i see it in their eyes
how they’re pretending
some people avoid me
as to not get sick
to save their freezing lungs
the fire is spreading throughout my body
my face is red
my throat is burning
im fading out
my lungs are on fire
i cannot breathe.
this is my 130th poem, written on 10/28/24.
Emery Feine Oct 25
If I received a marigold whenever I thought of you
I would walk in the sun’s rays forever
That peeks out through your hair
And lights up your eyes
Your eyes.
The yellows and reds in my heart
Are shown in Autumn’s turning leaves
Bouncing off in rays of golden light
Like the light in your eyes
Your eyes.
Just the thought of them makes my heart beat
Not the sea-blue of them
But the fact that they were on me.
this is my 129th poem, written on 10/24/24. <3
Emery Feine Oct 17
I try to pinpoint when my childlike rage started, but it never started. It was passed through my blood, out of the womb. my mother and father gave me this poison, fire in my blood, that is slowly burning me from the inside out.
.. / ... ..- .-. ...- .. ...- . / --- ..-. ..-. / - .... . / .. -.. . .- / - .... .- - / --- -. . / -.. .- -.-- --..-- / -- -.-- / .-. .- --. . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... . / .-- .. - -. . ... ... . -.. / -... -.-- / - .... . / -- . -. / .-- .... --- / .--. --- .. ... --- -. . -.. / -- . / .. -. / - .... . / ..-. .. .-. ... - / .--. .-.. .- -.-. . .-.-.-
Emery Feine Oct 17
Can you see the soil softly shake
As the once-dead zombies burst from it?
They're being revived,
Though they were left to die and decay.
The ice is melting,
And the heat is increasing
Into a blinding fire.
When I finally felt free,
The dead seeds I planted months, years ago
Are slowly sprouting. (A miracle? A curse?)
The world is repeating,
Like they told me it would.
I'm terrified.
The scenes I have escaped
Are creeping around the corner,
Like now-alive zombies.
The memories that I threw to the snow,
They are beginning to grow,
Like flowers in Antarctica.
this is my 128th poem, written on 10/16/24
Emery Feine Oct 12
I looked at the "
                         E
                           L
                             I
                              T
                                E
                                  S
                                    "
                                     and then back at
                                                               us,
                                                                    but I could see
                                                                                           N
                                                                                             O
                                                                                                difference.
sola differentia erat acceptio personarum.
Emery Feine Oct 12
They should really invent a place where I belong.
Not one with entirely sunshine and rainbows,
God knows I've prayed too little for that,
But one where
I fit.
I don't stand out,
But I'm still my own person
And not that me that I've shown others,
Deceived them for far too long.
My fixation with belonging
It's like a need
That will never once be met.
And I'm left starved and ravenous
For just an ounce of it
And its empty calories
this is my 127th poem, written on 10/11/24
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