I'm sick of friendship being compared to flowers.
The delicate petals of trust,
and stems flourishing
From the soil like a verdant century
Standing guard for the network of roots beneath.
Friendship is not a network,
there are no Connections beneath the surface
that would gravitate us to one another quite this strongly.
What does the soil of another possess that we
cannot provide to nourish ourselves
In the long winter of loneliness?
What flower can withstand seasonal change without losing its face?
No, friendship is not a flower.
It is the armor we strap to ourselves before
Braving the siege waiting beyond the horizon.
It is the wrist we take, to pull ourselves up from
That soil we hoped would sustain us.
Friendship is spent on long days, and tired eyes, simply
To earn a smile, a laugh, a word of authenticity.
It is the brace we rest our weary backs upon
to sleep
If only for a night
before letting the next of us rest in peace.
The border between self and stranger,
we extend our hands across that wall
Knowing not what waits behind it.
No, friendship is not a flower.
Friendship is braving the teeth to see the eyes.
A Special, rare, and worthy kind of love
that makes sense of the fractioned
Purpose of life.
YOU ARE READING
Verses
PoetryBook One: ~Romanticism~ An anthology of poems I worked on for a poetry class. They are reflective of how one feels when the heart and mind become entangled. Book Two: ~About~ Another collection of poetry that illuminates and explores the definitio...
