• An art doll held by strings.
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    In a dark, dark corner of a dark, dark lair  behind a dark, dark door down some dark, dark stairs  sits a pale and handsome woman with some dark, dark hair…   ‘Good evening,’ she purrs as you pull up a chair  ‘Can I be of help in my humble abode? Are you scared? Are ...
  • Image of optical illusion staircases with the title "Wanderland by Lexi Graham" depicted
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    I walk through a room that leads to another. The loop continues room by room until I am lost. The rooms stretch endlessly, each one different from the last, or maybe identical to the one before it. Some are empty; others are filled with spiraling staircases- Optical illusions that strain my eyes and leave me ...
  • Image of Plum Island Beach
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    I choose to believe  that there is more to life than heartache and grief. I have endured much hardship. Still, I wake to watch the sun rise above the mountain peak. I feel the salt of the ocean waves, catch the scent of something sweet, then let the soft flavors melt on my tongue. I ...
  • A lone tree standing in the middle of a green pasture with the sun setting among the horizon
    226
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    O, downtrodden soul, weep no more. You have a curious mind, a need to touch and see to believe what is right in front of you. But they spit on your face and kick you to the ground. You wonder what it is that you did wrong, as everyone you know looks at you with ...
  • Two hearts, one red and one white, joined together like a puzzle piece
    348
    1

    I want so much to not want you, Yet with every breath, you flood my mind anew I try to shake these thoughts away, But in that effort, I only find I miss you more each day Fingers locked, I drift softly in your touch, Yet I hold back, afraid to fall too much Your ...
  • two lit candles and three bundles of sage on a round table next to two chairs and a bookshelf
    448
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    Four reasons to call on your ancestors.
  • The image is of daytime waning crescent, barely visible in a white cloudy sky
    487
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    Mid-morning, and I could not seeThe daytime moonWhite, wispy cloudsWere shrouding my view I must be going out of my mind.I stood there thinking, ‘I’m going blind’And I waited for Mother Nature to be kind She rewarded my perseveranceWith a cursory appearanceOf the Waning Crescent Moon-The soupy sky’s tainted spoon
  • a burnt match within a group of fresh matches on a pink and white background
    421
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    A poem about dealing with creative burnout
  • green door with padlock
    446
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    Will you open the door of empathy?
  • solar eclipse
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    I embrace my inner eclipse and become whole.