☀️SUNREI POETRY☀️

a reclaiming of self poem inspired by the 4 of Cups tarot card a collage-style piece of a nonbinary sun faerie So much weariness in such...

winter beckons healing hibernation in us all a brown bear sleeping in the snow During early winter, bears enter a hibernation state...

It took a lot for little me to get here, and I consider that one of my life's greatest achievements: overcoming the dark instead of...

If I could talk to my past self about my present-self's triumphs... I'd tell them that the rainbows that lived within them are now worn...

after years of being told to tone down my light, it's no wonder my inner sun is shy... As the image description above already mentioned,...

cherishing all the little mes that brought me here Boarded up in a clock tower with broken gears for years upon years, all my inner child...

the magic of reparenting the inner child little me would look at now me all wide-eyed, gap-toothed grin, mind full of wonder and marvel...

what healing my inner fledgling looks like When everything was falling apart, from my rug-city of toy cars to my parents' arranged...

more acceptance, less striving for absolute perfection at all times Pine-lined path for miles. I think I'll stay a while and just be,...

self-minimizing and putting myself in harm's way for those who harm me are no longer my specialties Content Note: references to abuse...

hiding from the things that go bump in the night in your mind doesn’t make them any less monster Amorphous shadows hiding beneath creaky...

the title of this poem speaks for itself I often feel younger for my age, and in part, it has to do with my outlook on life, but it also...

they tried to turn me into a misanthrope, and they failed... miserably I wasn’t born a misanthrope. No, this aversion to humanity was a...

a short self-love poem for love day My red blood cells carry oxygen with a care I craved from a mother who carried too many burdens to...

Long-lost lionheart, how do I forward-step when magma’s mere meters away, lava inching closer to my soles by the day? Inner roars and...

self-protection isn't protective when it's a prison... My cocoon was made of moth-wings, but after enough asteroid-hits I mistook for...

a poem about wearing myself down trying to be someone "more palatable" when I should be building myself up by simply being me Chihiro...

a prose piece about shifting our focus away from "doing" to "being" There is no thing (okay, maybe a few) more exacting than simply being...

a poem about shrinking as a means of survival but later discovering that being seen no longer needs to be a threat; it is the key to...