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I am closed off
On the inside and outside
No road signs warning
 Jul 8 Anais Vionet
Maddy
She listened intently as he spoke
He lamented about all the children around him
He was related to all of them
He was not their father and he was reminded of what could  have been
Did not want to be there  but the otner seats were taken
Others were at the pool
Her eyes seemed if tears would burst but she nodded for she heard this before
Others there were also family
They knew about it and that adoption never happened
Seems a couple who were the birth parents found out that they were from a different religion so it was rescinded
That stopped them from adopting
Technology now might have given them the child they wanted
Saw her later and hugged her goodbye as well as him
We are family and they are happlily married for many years
No fault of either ,this unfortunately happens to those deserving
Eavesdrop not intended
Sorry it still hurts him but he hurt ber uninentionally too
Your voice is like music
You’re ethereal; a gift
You move the earth
More than a tectonic shift
You’re a goddess like creature
Your beauties refined
I’ll whisper I love you
A billion more times
Just to help you remember
I’m consumed, I’m obsessed
From the tip of your head
To your feet under dress
I worship your shadow
Your voice fills the room
I perk up my ears
And I’m saved from my gloom
My royal highness
My immaculate queen
My last thought when I lay down
As to meet you in my dreams
 Jul 8 Anais Vionet
Quinn
Yesterday is a ghost —
a fading breath we cannot hold.
“Forget it,” they say,
“It already buried itself in silence.”

Tomorrow is mist —
A shape beyond the horizon.
“Don’t wait for it,” they warn,
“It may never come the way you dreamed.”

But today...
Today stands with open hands.
So we rise,
we walk,
we carry what we can


The future remains unwritten —
a blank sky
aching for stars we haven’t named.
Still, we press ink into it
with trembling hearts.

The future is still a mystery,
But it is ours to shape.
To mold with the trembling strength of now.


After joy that made us sing,
After nights of silence,
After loss that hollowed our ribs,
After missed chances, closed doors, misfortunes endured and roads that turned away —
A voice, quiet and golden,
still finds us.

It tells us gently:

Whatever comes,
whatever breaks,
whatever blesses —
It is ours.
It is all fortune.

--- Quinn ✍️✨
© 2025 Quinn. All rights reserved.
Can you feel the southern heat.?
In the midst of the day
Looking for relief
I wonder which way
       Should I go?
Can you feel the sun beating down?
Is there anyone around.?
I’m starting to feel down
Everywhere I look
The heat index is rising
Can you feel the southern heat?
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