there is a fragile tenderness in us
something quiet, soft,
waiting to be unearthed
but most of the time,
we taste only bitterness
ages have passed, our minds expanding,
yet our souls still crave
the same fresh blood
we forget we are of the stars —
thousands of collisions
have led us to breathe the same air
and still, we try to imitate creation…
burning cities to the ground
only to rebuild them from ash
still, nothing truly changes…
although the future has never been clear to me,
one thing remains certain —
this undying love I hold
for those who share this world with me
will burn as fiercely as ever
let us cast away our differences
as though we were shedding
our collective skin,
and foster a new hope
in all the nights
when sleep was but a long-lost dream,
my sense of wonder
has yet to be eclipsed
how capable we are
and how easily we forget it
bursting with affection,
instilling life
where it had yet to reach…
this is the hope I choose to hold onto
I shall cling to it ferociously,
lest it slip away
because what remains,
when all is said and done,
is not the perfection we chased,
nor the world we failed to fix,
but the way we reached forth
despite the hesitation
the way we stayed true
despite the fracture
the quiet defiance
of trying once more
This poem was a collaboration with Andreea Cristine. Find more of her work here.
