Amelia James Poetry

i want to be soft again.

not naive.
not blind.
just…
soft.

the kind of soft that stares at the twilight sky
like it’s a love letter
addressed to no one and everyone all at once.
the kind that exhales,
and feels the stars exhale back.

i want to believe in magic
without needing proof.
not because someone told me it was real—
but because i remember
what it felt like
to know it was.

like fireflies blinking in rhythm.
like grass sticking to your shins after running barefoot.
like the wind playing with your hair
like it missed you.

that kind of soft.

i want to rest my head
on a porch swing
and let the world blur.
feel the summer night wrap around me
like it remembers the shape of my hope.

i want to laugh
like nothing has ever cracked me open.
i want to cry
and not apologize for it.
i want to feel
without bracing.

i was the kind of soft
that memorized lullabies
and thought forever was a simple word—
like love could never leave
once it found you.

i want to be soft again.
not because the world is kind—
but because i refuse
to let it take that from me.

i want to be soft again.
not because i’ve healed—
but because i’m tired
of carrying armor
when all i ever wanted
was to be held.

and god,
i miss her.

i miss me.


-Amelia James