Adena M'lynn's Voice

“Petals and Thorns” By Adena M’lynn  Speak— but do so like walking through roses. Let your words be petals— soft, intentional, fragrant with truth and tremble. But don’t ignore the thorns. See them. Name them. They are sharp with history, barbed with shame, ready to bleed anyone who dares brush too close without armor. Still— we speak. We reach into the bramble and carve a path not just for ourselves but for the ones who come next. We don’t pretend the way is painless. We simply make it possible. So say it. Say it like a lantern in the dark, like petals laid over broken glass— a softness that says, You’re not alone. You can speak here too. Because healing is not the absence of thorns, but the courage to bloom anyway— and make the path clearer, safer, truer for the ones still waiting to find their voice in the garden.

by Adena M’lynn Life is nothing more than strings of moments threaded like popcorn on a Christmas tree— fragile, uneven, handmade. Some pieces are sweet, coated in sugar like laughter shared under July stars. Others are burnt, bitter— words we wish we hadn’t said but still string up anyway. We pass each other like hands threading the next kernel, not knowing if we’re adding to something beautiful or just trying to keep the thread from breaking. People come and go— but like ornaments packed away each year, some return with new cracks, different colors, the same name. And still, the garland grows. Changing, but never really changing. Memory is sticky like sap— you can’t touch someone without carrying a piece of them with you. Love is the space between the knots, grief is the popcorn that falls off unnoticed, and forgiveness is tying the thread again even when your fingers shake. We hang each year like it’s the last, hoping the lights still work, knowing some bulbs have burned out, but tr...