I Was Once a Sunflower

kindness

This world hates softness. 

It only appreciates hardened stone,

wants everyone to be rough on the edges. 

I am malleable. 

Adaptable.

Pliable.

Soft. 

A sieve, all the love I create flows right through my body

and into the people around me. 

A friend cries at 3 A.M., so I cry with her.

My soul aches at the sight of anyone else's pain. 

I cannot deny anyone the help or love that was for so 

long denied to me. 

living breathing punching bag with suns and stars 

evident in the cores of my eyes

for the world to see

I do not hide. 

I am soft and I often wish I was not 

I wish I was born with a heart of stone

I wish my bones were made of steel and my teeth 

were daggers and the words that dripped from my mouth 

were molten lava 

but instead I am glass. 

I am a whisper in the wind. 

I leave a trail of honeyed words wherever I speak and

my legacy I leave behind is that I was kind. 

To anyone who glanced my way, I oozed

kindness, dished it out like one of those people

who puts flyers in your mailbox,

wanted or not, it is there,
sweet enough to give people a toothache.

Practically untraceable. 

I was not memorable or important or distinct

or colorful. 

But world be damned, I was kind. 

I did not change the world,

but somewhere along the way,

once upon a time, 

I made someone smile and it gave me all the 

hope I needed to continue on. 

My kindness may not have saved anyone else, 

but it saved me.