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We used to go to bed listening to fairytales
Hearing about princesses and dragons
Unreachable dreams and fake heroes

We welcome warm winters only after cold summers
For I remember admiring the shiny moon
Contemplating ruins
And admiring autumn's vulnerability

Growing from bittersweetness
Accepting pain as an energy
Finding hopes in every step
Maybe now greyness is the miracle I need
Allesha Eman Oct 4
I shy away from yellow Novembers,
As I stare into the glowing sun, 
searching for some metal wings, 
ones that bring back unfamiliar winds,
 hoping that they'll take me too. 

I trace my fingers along road maps,
and chase my regrets while looking back
I dream of sunsets on snowy roads 
I run from colours that feel too old 
and search for stories that haven't been told

I've read the writings on the wall, 
it seems like I've been waiting to fall, 
but every time I dream of a new place 
I can't help but feel like I need an escape 
So I find myself on the other side,

walking down roads that never divide, 
chasing dreams I have yet to meet 
becoming someone I have yet to be
searching for fate, I walk along 
towards the yellow November trees 

alone, afar, yet somewhere close, 
hand in hand with vulnerability.
Taking a break from the “26 Letters to Time” series :)
I’m not sure
Of what I’m doing
I’m starting to dread the thought
That my solitude
Is not a choice anymore
But something I got used to
Without even noticing
Like it’s something I’ve been telling myself
That I needed
Or deserved
A symptom of strength
To show off
To be proud of
When the last thing I want
Is building up walls
Around someone I love
I should be pulling you in
But I’m kicking you out
I locked the front door
Threw away all your clothes
So you wouldn’t come back
Because I got so much tired
Of your endless coming and going
Never knowing where to stand
I’m not going pretend
I prefer to pull away
Before they do the same
But everything has a price
I’ve seen it with my eyes
And I’ve paid
For each one of my mistakes
And that’s alright
It’s all part of life
And I embrace it and love it all
Because now I know
That I almost became
The kind of person
Who hurt me most
Who shut me out
Without taking a chance on me
Now I’m aware of all the things I let go
I regret and mourn them all
But they belong to a past that I can’t change
from which I can’t turn away
But I’ll forever be thankful for having learned
That I don’t need to be like the ones who hurt  
When there’s an immense power that comes from being open
and vulnerable
to love.
Molly Sep 16
If I could have one last conversation with you
A final day in the sunshine
I'd tell you I love you
for the first time
and the last.

If there's one more thing I could teach you
It would be that the way you're living
is no way to live.

But I'd say it in my head, send it through my exhales in the hopes it subconsciously reaches your ears,
so as not to ruin the present moment.

We're sitting in silence
knees touching
bodies leaning into each other so it all hurts less

You'd stroke my eyelashes as they flutter with your fingertips
I can't remember what your laugh sounds like anymore

I can picture you laughing, but it's like a silent movie

But I remember how your voice sounds as it cracks through your tears
And I can see your restlessness
even with my eyes open.

I can feel your sadness
Its weight I can still see imprinted on my love seat

If I could tell you one more story about myself,
To the version of you that was still open
like a sunflower
so willing to receive

I would tell you that I'm tired of being scared
done with hiding my need to be protected
so tired of staying up all night guarding my own heart.

I may require affection and love more than you're used to giving
but you have seen my love move mountains for free
and I need just once for someone to do the same for me.

If I could meet you for the first time
one last time

I would share with you that I see your fears and I honour them
sooner than I did before.

I'd tell you
you're safe here

I would believe who you said you were the first time.

If I were to say goodbye to you again
a do-over
an un-doing

I would sit fully in that moment with you
and thank you for your honesty
forgive you for your shortcomings

Accepting that you never really unpacked your bags

Even though in my mind,
we had already grown old together.
Maya Duran Sep 12
He reminds you that you may never be loved
In the way that you are supposed to
His heart opens as it should
A halved pomegranate
And the jewel flesh spills forward
In effortless bounty

Yours was wrapped in butcher paper
With care, long ago
It lives in the freezer
In the way, way back
Ice crystals form slowly
Until they resemble a silver blanket of moss
"Cavetown wrote a song about your ex and we played it all summer long" pt 3. This poem isn't about what you think it is, but I don't think that that matters so much. The feeling is the same at its core, even if the circumstances are not.
kl Sep 7
I sat behind a living lattice full of lovely plants and creatures,
Wondering if perhaps this place could satisfy a solitary life.
Beside me was a river that flowed north and made a sweet melody.
As I silently watched a rainbow trout glide by, you appeared.

You made me smile a smile that I could feel in my heart,
And you looked tenderly at the garden that grew up before me.
With a delicate hand you introduced me to each being:
To coltsfoot and arnica and daisy and aster,
To Indian pipe and ground pine and Rocky Mountain juniper.
And you showed me the sweetness of huckleberry's generosity and how soft of a bed pine flat mosses provide.

Our minds made a shimmering web full of entire worlds and their stories.
I told you of a universe where all life existed as autotrophs and saprophytes and death was natural but never intentional.
You told me of a forest where plants were animals and animals were plants and twinflower moose drank from the streams.
And in our reverie, we looked up at the sky and saw giants; fighting and lolling and falling in love.

A stellar jay who sat upon the lattice called us back from the rabbit hole we had delightedly dove into.
As we made our way towards our friend, I noticed that behind my garden was a plethora of magnificent space.
When I looked back at you I wanted to grab your hand and sprint into this newfound freedom.
And we did.
And we paddled and swam and jumped and walked and touched and danced as well.

We heard whisperings one evening as we laid naked under a starry sky.
They told us of a plump pleasant woman and a gruff quirky man.
We heard that they were tiny with wings and spent their days growing love.
We wandered our way to ****** Mouth and they invited us into their garden.
They told us to stay as long as our hearts desired, and so we did.
Nothing confuses me more
than the survival of the butterfly.
They fly around with their beautiful colors,
so easy for a predator to see.
There delicate wings,
one rip and they are grounded.
They have no teeth, no claws
to defend themselves.

So tell me, how did they make it?
How have they survived this long
being so, vulnerable?

I think ,through butterflies, God is showing us
that it is okay to be delicate.
You can survive being vulnerable.
We do not have to always be
hard and strong
to make it in the world.
We can be soft.
We can be human.

-to be a like butterfly j.j
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