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February 23, 2013
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maybe the world isn't so frail that it'll break
the moment we touch something;
and maybe there's a little part of ourselves
(deep inside, perhaps, or close to the surface)
that's stronger than what we give credit for,
because, after all, we burn with the vision
of growing stronger.

i enjoy watching pretty things
like kerbs where teens sit with knees pressed together
feet in the gutter --
their hearts
stitched to their sleeves.  
i relish a name etched into a tree
and boats folded from leaves.

little things, which whisper that people still love
even when purses are emptied of coins,
even when patience
is drained.

we're strong
like flowers surviving monsoons;
we're strong
like ants who carry huge crumbs;

we're strong
the way the moon is so far
but still blushes at the light of
the sun.

i want to tell all who tread on hard soil
that even stones soften into the beach,
that the lullaby-cry of seagulls is soothing,
and clouds, now distant, were once of the water
that's cupped in your hands.

it's closer than we ever believed.
It's very messy --

But I was replying to ~3fukutaicho earlier, and I realised that there's a tone I haven't employed in my poetry for quite a while. These days, I prefer to have structure, even in pieces which are supposedly open. But the odd bit of sentimentality strikes me quite nicely. :)
:iconvampiratelycan:
VampirateLycan Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2013
I like this. It speaks to me.
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:iconkittykittyhunter:
kittykittyhunter Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013   Writer
Thank you! :D
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