|Now what should I say? I don't even know why I bother to write this... Well, I like art, fanfic, fan art, food, sleep, daydreaming... doing anything I feel like doing at the moment...|
A fleet of 'maybes', a navy of 'what ifs'We were ships passing in an open bay,A fleet of 'maybes', a navy of 'what ifs' by xXI-Feel-InfiniteXx
our red sails melting like an eclipse;
in that moment, we filtered out all light
and let our eyes glow from beneath our lids;
but moments are fleeting and ships pass
and our anchors drop in the close embrace
of other harbours.
8 things optimism taught mei. I told him I wouldn’t write sad poetry if he gave me a reason, and he gave me three, pressing kisses to my temples, letting his shoulders lean against mine like trees into a breeze.8 things optimism taught me by xXI-Feel-InfiniteXx
ii. He told me that some poems don’t need words, beauty doesn’t always require eyes. He told me there is poetry in the slats of light encased within our interlaced fingers, that there is beauty in the slow passing of dancing minute and hour hands.
iii. I told him that I only saw poetry in the stamps emblazoned within my passport. He said that I was running from so-called misery, not stopping to see that sadness was a mesh, a filter, over happiness - that it was temporary, removable, transient.
iv. I told him that I only saw beauty in a woman sat in a café across from her handbag, as if it was the love of her life. He said that the beauty lay in how she thought the crumbs left discarded by her coffee cup spelt her soulmate’s name.