Stepping Together Two Worlds Apart

This poem follows Lola as she wanders through the lingering echoes of isolation, carrying wounds left by abandonment, false affection, and a world that never seemed to grant her a place to belong. Though she discovers a bond capable of softening the jagged terrain beneath her feet, the intimacy it offers is as frightening as the loneliness that came before it. Her feelings remain suspended between longing and hesitation, as if speaking them aloud might shatter the fragile trust they have carefully cultivated together. This poem explores the quiet terror of being truly seen, and the courage required to hold onto love despite the vulnerability and uncertainty that accompany it.

Stepping Together Two Worlds Apart

Written by Sutter Libby, the Director of Escapades of Everfell

My alarmed darling—unearthed

Billions of mirth

that spark like dreams above the wings of a starling.

My place here, then yours, then explores

the broken world that won’t stop whirling.

I befriended imps that dwell in the ivy

and lost my head to those who shunned Valium

within the cyclical fabric of faked endearment

but we steered together through this uncanny valley.

Through the world tilted,

I once ventured through that valley, alone,

amidst shadows that walked without bodies.

Their voices a serrated psalm,

eyes like glass with a fractured qualm,

a fragile balm, cloaked by a veil,

obscuring the chance to find a nightingale.

The realm was distraught,

which sharpened the rocks beneath my feet—

Helplessly tearing me from those I hallowed.

Surrounded by faces of fright, emerged a wallowed hand,

a serene voice that softened the jagged land.

I know you’re not a survivor of a siege

and its unstructured prestige,

like glided frames for fading art.

I’m not a survivor of the forever detached,

of certain seclusion, so how did we at last attach?

Angry thorns slaughtered.

Angry thorns did slaughter our upbringing

when the terrain simply needed time, recovering.

But no word could match our silent plea—

Just your pulse and mine, a shared esprit.

So we must hold

tenderly onto the beat and a blush.

We must hold amid the feeling that intimidates us.

Since we remain so vulnerable and ever-growing.

Since we were denied until we finally found remarkable trust.