A short, angsty poem from Shiori, Kurama's human mother.I own nothing.Inspired by reading Draith's poems.


Suuichi,my son,

You look so much like your father,

graceful stride,

you've all the makings of an arrogant teen.

But you help me,

Took care of me when I was ill,

cared more than one would think.

When I was lying in that bed,

so close to death,Suuichi

I remembered,

back to when you were young,

when you came so close to falling on that glass.

You were so young, Suuichi,

but so proud,

but after I saved you,

you seemed more humble.

My fingers linger on those scars,


the ones that remain.

You still worry for me,

and that's endearing.

There's a vulpine air around you,

my boy, did you know that?

And that the plants I keep seem all the happier to see you?

And that your friends seem to be more confident around you?

And that you seem to be more than what these eyes can see?

Your eyes, Suuichi,


they seem so cold and ruthless.

Is that how you really are?

When you're gone for all those days?

Suuichi,my boy.

Those scars.

Terrible,painful scars.

Ugly and hideous.

I bear them still.

For you.

My son.


Woah! I was not expecting that to be written. Tell me what you think.