October

She loved Halloween.
A time she could truly be herself.
Her wings didn’t have to be cramped inside her jacket, her antennas under her damp hat.

The fairy could be one of many, enjoying decorations reminiscent of her old land. With glaring errors, but nonetheless, she feels a bit more at home. In October.

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strangerpaths

Poet, making sense of war, humanity, love and greed. Trying to find the magic in ordinary things. I am Zee

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