Copy Paper

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
When the hurt begins to be too much

Submitted: May 22, 2017

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Submitted: May 22, 2017

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I've become plain as a piece of paper, but not just any paper the plain paper without lines, I have become the Plain White copy paper, not even the blue kind. Guess I can survive with that, see I say "survive" because I can't say live to live you have to be happy to actually have a life, people like me we don't live we survive. The plain people who have drowned emotions, none at all, those stoned faced monotoned voice people whose hearts have died. Whose souls have left, So now we're blank, dull eyed and alone. Nothing is written so I feel nothing. Its as if my story has went blank I have no words to say, I feel no emotions so I zombie through the day. My mind has reached it's Maxima for disappointment my heart has finally crumbled down nothing anyone does or can do surprises me and my face is stuck with this constant blankness between just being there and a half frown. I can not trust a word uttered from another being, dead or alive one lie is too many. Realization killed me , it split open every crack. Cracked me open and broke me down and now I'm hollow, empty front and back. Stripped out and thin, blank as empty copy paper and not even the blue kind.


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