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Indigo Tuesday

Goodbye, Blue Monday. Hello, Indigo Tuesday. Positivity and connection through poetry and short stories. Learning to be human.

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Category: Resilience

January 31, 2019February 6, 2019Allyson Morin

my monsters

I starved myself down to the marrow in the narrow hope that my demons would find these bones to skinny to lick clean. Oh, but these monsters found rooms in my ribs and homes in my heart to languish fed fat on despair. 

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January 20, 2019Allyson Morin

Wicked Lies

There is a ghost of who I used to be who lays her head on the underside of my pillow and whispers wicked lies behind my eyes as I dream.

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January 14, 2019January 15, 2019Allyson Morin

The epiphany

I curled my leaves and starved myself to the root to deny the pain of blooming, to pollute. and what I found  was that the sun didn’t shine much light and the flowers didn’t look as bright and the earth didn’t taste just right and I learned that the sun needs me and the flowers […]

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January 5, 2019January 6, 2019Allyson Morin

Plant me in the garden

a plant’s roots, pot-bound, grow to the shape of that which kills it gnarled comfortably below the surface. plant me in the garden where I may feel the sun and rain though I’ll bear the scorch and storm. these hungry wild vines of mine were meant to spread.

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December 24, 2018January 6, 2019Allyson Morin

I am not a stranger to the rain

I am not a stranger to the rain. I am not a hard-packed desert who at first storm-break will flood, reject the course of life that comes most naturally. I am soft enough to accept the storm without spilling– to soak sorrows into these old-growth forest bones and milk the life from gathering clouds to birth tender shoots reaching for the sun. 

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December 18, 2018January 6, 2019Allyson Morin

Snowmelt

The wrongness of winter rain on fresh snow– where do the snow fairies go in this world promised frozen? 

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December 13, 2018January 6, 2019Allyson Morin

Dry Eyes

but to pull myself together now would be to squeeze a palm of sand to stone without water, the healing crush of tears 

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December 10, 2018January 6, 2019Allyson Morin

Do not ask the sun who she shines for

Do not ask the sun who she shines for– though she illuminates the shadows of men her light is the product of a fire in her belly that cannot be extinguished or captured– she runs through fingers like gold. 

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December 4, 2018January 6, 2019Allyson Morin

Burned Out

A long-forgotten wick, lit, burns fast in melted wax 

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December 2, 2018January 6, 2019Allyson Morin

Nothing delicate but my laundry

This skin I’m in tastes of freedom I will not shrink for your desire 

Continue Reading "Nothing delicate but my laundry"

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