There’s a tenderness here that hasn’t been trained out yet, and that’s why it matters. The images move with trust, not irony, like someone who still believed the world could soften.
I’m glad you found this voice again, to remember where hope first learned your name. Some parts of us wait quietly until we stop calling them naïve.
Teenage whimsy really said “I’ll wait,” and then showed up glowing. I love how this runs on a softer clock — angels, children, lovers, seasons all politely syncing up for the third of the moon. It’s mythic without trying to impress, just quietly believing things can melt, cleanse, bloom again.
Also that realization — oh, the whimsical you is still in there — is such a gift. Turns out she kept the moonlight warm for you. This feels like remembering how to look at the world sideways and finding it kinder for it.
Thank you Asuka. It is strange how I find things when the time is right. I have been reflecting on change over this year because people have said to me a lot that I have changed this year, but maybe it's not change but returning to myself. Even as a teenager, my writing knew myself better than anything or anyone, and that's evident. It is my truest form of expression 🩷 xx
There’s a tenderness here that hasn’t been trained out yet, and that’s why it matters. The images move with trust, not irony, like someone who still believed the world could soften.
I’m glad you found this voice again, to remember where hope first learned your name. Some parts of us wait quietly until we stop calling them naïve.
I love how this poem talks about new beginnings. And how the third of the moon signifies a hope of new things. "The season of believing is coming,
Coming on the third of the moon." Lovely ❤️
Thank you Nerra 🩷 xx
Very beautiful
Thank you Leo 😊🩷
Teenage whimsy really said “I’ll wait,” and then showed up glowing. I love how this runs on a softer clock — angels, children, lovers, seasons all politely syncing up for the third of the moon. It’s mythic without trying to impress, just quietly believing things can melt, cleanse, bloom again.
Also that realization — oh, the whimsical you is still in there — is such a gift. Turns out she kept the moonlight warm for you. This feels like remembering how to look at the world sideways and finding it kinder for it.
Thank you Asuka. It is strange how I find things when the time is right. I have been reflecting on change over this year because people have said to me a lot that I have changed this year, but maybe it's not change but returning to myself. Even as a teenager, my writing knew myself better than anything or anyone, and that's evident. It is my truest form of expression 🩷 xx
Thank you Elham, I think this poem returned to me at the right time to remind me of exactly this 🩷 xx