One late night in June

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Poems written on a late night in June.

Adore you
It's funny the way people love passion until you care '"too much."
They enjoy it until you are rambling about just how much you just love it.
They support you until it becomes a fundamental part of who you are.
They like it until it's in its most raw, authentic form.
But there's something about seeing someone's eyes light up with joy, watching their body become filled with pure elation, that's something I will never disregard.
Maybe you like envelopes, or mushrooms, or that tv show from ten years ago, if it brings sun into your bedroom I'm more than glad to hear about it.
I have a few passions, a few things that I hold closer to my heart then my hands that wrap around it.
I love writing poetry,
There's something so special about it, something so unique.
I can write a story, then another, all in one chapter.
I can convey and connect like never before.
Something about a good poem leaves me feeling understood in a way nothing else quite does.
I love words,
Their definitions, their histories, the dictionaries that hold them.
The dictionary in my backpack is a home that comes with me.
Language is something that will always be a wonder to me, a beautiful wonder.
I love my art journal,
It's a way for me to express my innermost thoughts in a way I can smile while looking at.
I capture my life in the very moments it's happening.
All of these interests add value to my life in a way nothing else could,
And what a beautiful thing that is.

A poem written before
I've written poems about discovering authenticity many times.
I've added layers of paint to my canvas, I've learned to use the shades I've been given in many different mediums.
But with each new color comes the same story.
The same tale of being too strange,
The repeated lesson of realizing hiding isn't a way to live.
So although the poem may be written time and time again after this, the message remains the same.
A life behind curtains is not a life at all.

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