one:
During the day,
the world is lit aglow
a swathe of blue, empty skies
whisps of white
(cotton clouds, treading the wind.)
it cuts ruthlessly, through the dark
vanquishing the shadows,
where our kind finds curled-up solace.
It is only at night,
scraped-out slivers of stars
hanging loosely from the sky,
and a vaporized moon
where the light shines brightest.
(Simply life alone, is not enough.)
two:
The house is cold,
but a flurry of words and yelling and movement
and it is an still, lonely, silent place
from where I stand.
(parents weary, tired, who only seems
to care when it suits them,
or for letters on a slip of paper.
children, who don't laugh
moving, attacking, voices reaching
to the attic.)
A/N
*throws confetti* My two-week Wattpad anniversary! How exiting~
I am a pretty clumsy person who, as a child, was very prone to casually slipping down the stairs and bashing my head on the front door. And anyhow, the other day I tripped over my own feet and did a split on a pile of very pointy rocks. I can't do splits.
(Long story short, I can't really walk with a semi-twisted leg so I sortof just limped around today, having a feud with every single staircase that came my way.)
