26, queer, recovery, and healing. Making my way through life via poetry.
The deafening silence fell over the cold, cracked ground like dry snow. Any sound that dared to make a dent in the earth could be heard for miles. Suddenly, the earth started to move and the dense trees in the forest rumbled in their roots. Out of the dark green brush, Madelyn Danby sprints forcefully towards the clearing. She looks back at the old red barn with the rusted doors and sees her pet owl, Arlo dart into the sky. She takes a deep breath as she sees his ivory feathers paint the night. His sapphire eyes glimmer in the moonlight. It’s almost time. His talons cut through the thin air as he heads towards the clearing. Clasped gently in his beak is the emerald necklace. Even from 50 ft below, Madelyn can still see it shine. She hears the loud footsteps of the two men catching up to her. She doesn’t have much time. Her lungs are on fire and her bare feet are raw from running against the frozen sticks and pine needles that cake the forest floor. “Get her! We can’t let her get away again!” She hears one of the men shout to the other. Time is of the essence. She’s almost to the clearing, but she might not have enough time once she gets there. She could cast a spell, but they aren’t quite close enough. No, it’s too risky. The spell could bounce off something and hit an animal or rebound on her. Madelyn’s long brown hair sticks to her cheeks as she runs for dear life. “1, 2, 3, 4…” She starts counting her steps, counting down until she makes it to the clearing. It’s something her sister, Evelyn does…did.
We cherish Mother Earth for the way she changes seasons. She gracefully shifts from scorching Father Sun feeding sunlight to the grass, to autumn breezes and early moonlight. Then, she turns the colorful leaves into snowflakes that cake the grass and kiss our cheeks. Slowly, that snow begins to melt, and she changes again. Underneath the snow, she reveals beautiful budding flowers. The color contrasts after stark-white snow for months are breathtaking. She is always changing.
Learning to Love Me
Hi, my name is Megan, I’m 26 years old, and this is the story of me learning to love myself. When I was 15, I developed an eating disorder. It was a grueling monster that loved to take and take. My parents noticed my drastic shift in behavior early on. This prompted them to take me to my pediatrician. It sounds kind of odd if you think about it, going to your pediatrician to receive a diagnosis for an eating disorder. But my parents were at a loss. Their bright, blue-eyed, food-loving child was disappearing right in front of their eyes. I went from being bubbly and full of life, too frail and cold.