you just might make me believe

what's your mode of transport?
mine is the sun.
when it rises dripping from
the sea when it falls like honey on
the trees when it swallows up
clouds my soul moves with it.

mine is you.
when you lift your eyes
when you look straight ahead
when you try to speak my
heart moves with you.

4:34:00 PM
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
bop to the top
she has this serious, distant, quiet mask on her. but she wishes to shed it. wishes she could reveal her interior. her interior that's just threatening to burst with joy. but she's just so afraid. of getting hurt. of being ridiculed. of being laughed at. of being accused of not being her real self. when really. she's trying to show more of her own soul. when she's comfortable, she sheds this ugly, cacoon-like exterior like a second skin. but she's never comfortable. never want to be vulnerable.

she laughs. she cries. she empathises. she's colourful. she's sarcastic. she's witty. she's funny.

she shows a constant sense of awareness, of her true emotions.
but. it's only to those closest to her.

others never see this sensitive, outgoing girl. all they see is what they perceive. never bothering to dive deeper. into sweeter waters. never bothering to understand. not giving her the chance to show herself truly when the image of her mask is clouding the eyes of whom she sees.

perhaps she wants to change this.

perhaps. just perhaps.

honesty is the best policy