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Bekah Halle Feb 10
I come home a foreigner.
The sun is warm and welcoming,
But the environment has changed.
Curiosity is beconning,
But with gentle eyes.

I come home changed.
Last time I was more timid,
This time, a little stronger.
Last time I thought my weaknesses were insipid,
This time, they are part of me.

I come home curious,
As to what it might be, I ponder.
The family dynamics.
The opportunities that I may squander,
In fear of becoming my truest self.

I come home braver.
Even though on the outside I may be frailer,
Even though.
I might not be, but opportunities I can tailor,
So, it is with courage I move forward.
Quillemina Fox Aug 2019
I looked out the Window
and I saw
Beauty, abounding Bounty,
Peace, prosperous Pain,
Love and Lust and Longing,
a Hierarchy of Hate,
Mourning Mothers, Mounds of Dead,
virullent Venoms, poison Flowerbeds,
deep dark Caves of dread,
Birthplaces for beautiful things,
long profound Silences
Demon and Angle Wings
Roads longer than Long
Horizons farther than Far
ethereal, heavenly, beconning Stars.
I opened the Window
and stepped Outside

— The End —