Random poems

Return to me, slowly,

Though they’ve stolen our time

With their waiting and their silence

I don’t know what they hope for

They don’t trust the earth

Don’t believe in clay

To piece together hearts and bones

But we—the dreamers—

We’re the lucky ones

We shape futures behind our eyes,

Carving hope

From the soft return of what it means to be human

We don’t confuse caution

With fear

And still, beneath

The heavy gaze of judgment,

Something grows—

Between the cracks,

Connection blooms

We keep low,

But aim high

Because now—

Now it’s an act of defiance to love

So come back to me

I’ve seen what fear can ruin

You are the mender

Of heart and bone

You are what home feels like