{"sf1_id":982729,"sf2_id":"ynZZrVqn","title":"Fuzzy Form","author":"taladrian","words":190,"posted_at":"2016-04-04T13:57:00.000Z","tags":["Fursuit","Poem","Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/982729-fuzzy-form","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/ynZZrVqn","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/55/72/5572e4ed-334f-48dd-8877-f53425c0e6bd","description":"#1 of Poetry\n\nFirst Poem I did this semester for my Creative Writing class. We were to choose an object to write a poem about, and I chose my fursuit. Ironically, I had intended to write a bubbly, happy poem because that's what I think of when I picture my fursuit. Before I had written it, I was laying in my bed, reading the textbook for my class when I got so inspired, I literally threw the book across the room as I leaped out of bed to the computer to start typing. I got part way through the third stanza when I just started crying out of nowhere, and I still don't quite understand how it happened. A light hearted, bubbly story somehow turned into one of sorrow and loss. As I was writing, I started thinking about fursuiting at a children's hospital, and then thoughts of my dog who died over two years ago ran through my head and I just lost it. I was crying so loud that I woke up one of my mates from across the hall, and it was about a half hour before I finally calmed down.\nThe moral of the story is, you never know when inspiration will strike, or what kind. Don't be afraid to run with it. Even though this poem was not what I intended, I'm still really proud of it, and I'm finding that it means more to me than I anticipated.\nAnd finally, comments and constructive criticism are welcome as always. Thanks for reading!","content":" **-- Fuzzy Form --**\n\nUnblinking eyes greet upon entry,\n\nThe smirk - perpetual.\n\nThe head sits alone,\n\nIts body hidden behind closet doors\n\nUntil the time to don comes.\n\nA hood of black\n\nCreates shadows of gray.\n\nIts spear-tipped ears, and\n\nLong yet blunted nose meet\n\nFur soft\n\nAs an innocent heart.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nWith the helmet worn\n\nAnd the armor donned,\n\nI come to life.\n\nThe smirk becomes a smile.\n\nThe unblinking eyes are now a comfort\n\nTo those who see it\n\nLike that of one's pet\n\nAfter days of false kindness,\n\nAt work and school\n\nWhere faces blend, and attitudes flare.\n\nMy own warmth comes\n\nIn this fake flesh.\n\nThe true, no,\n\nDesired self is known.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThis armor thought to protect me\n\nFrom my emotions and hide it\n\nFrom others fails\n\nAs I wander through\n\nThe weeping halls\n\nOf parents and kids.\n\nTheir faces of loss or inevitable fate\n\nTurn to hope and calm acceptance\n\nAfter they laugh and play\n\nWith this fuzzy furred form.\n\nTears I long held fall, memories\n\nOf my own loss years passed,\n\nDuring even children's smile.\n\nTheir laughter soon to be\n\nSilent eternal.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/982730-uncomfortable-comfort.json"}}