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I'll always give my all for you.
I'll always protect you.

A wavering candle trying to stay lit.
Darkness trying to swallow me whole.
To set my smokey haze upon the room.

Even in the darkness I'd see you.
Even in the quiet I'll hear you.
Even in my deepest fears, I'll hold you.

I know not how to be a stone wall.
To keep all monsters out.
Aren't guardians supposed to?
To know the fear that those before must have faced,
Is heart sickening.
The fortress we thought we were sheltered in,
Was just a picket fence.
And now I stand.
Wood shaking in the wind.
I cry, I scream, I bellow into the storm.
You cannot have my little girl.

I will not let you.

Anxiety is mourning every possibilty.
I wear all black.
I walk in the sun, and see nothing but shade.
1 in, 1 out
Rose Amberlyn Nov 2020
It wrestles with the leaves,
Hurries with the cold,
Floats with the knowing,
And chills in the bones.

A fickle friend,
To taunt and play,
To cool you off,
And breeze away.

The wind you say,
That is the answer.
Or is it fear,
The silent dancer?
Rose Amberlyn Jul 2020
I'm awake,
With my eyes closed.
Write what you're feeling.
Paint a masterpiece.
Take photos all day.
Make short films like you once did.
Read every book you can.
Bake new creations.

Live up to your potential.
I'm asleep, with my eyes opened.
Rose Amberlyn Jun 2020
It's in the soft wrap of a blanket,
The warm touch of the sun.
The loving look from a baby,
The gentle hold of your bed.
It's in the crisp bite of an apple,
The slow sway of the flowers.
The sweet music that fills you,
The joy of not worrying.

It's there.
Rose Amberlyn Apr 2020
Do you hear her when you sit outside?
She is singing.
Yelling, laughing, talking.
The wind touching the leaves,
The trees swaying in her breath.
The clouds moving as she moves.
She dances.
You're never alone.
All you need is sit under her great sky.
You were meant to be here.
You're alive here.
We hide in our homes,
Our buildings,
Our hearts.
But we are seen.
Under the great sky.
Rose Amberlyn Apr 2020
It's not black & white,
It's blooming with color.
Complicated and simple at once.
The opening of flowers,
One by one,
Petals falling,
Onto stone.
We live, we die.
The story is what matters.
Not the ending.
Today may be a page,
Possibly a sentence.
And tomorrow?
Rose Amberlyn Feb 2020
feeling so small,
and powerless.
Holding tight to my row boat,
As the dark ocean waters,
storm both sides.
My matted hair, soaked,
covering my eyes.
I sail alone,
without direction.

and they want to cut me open.
take away what i was born with.

my therapist said we are all butterflies.
transforming, changing.

but some of us,
are changing,
under a knife.
to save our life.

and that is the hardest metamorphosis,
i can think of.
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