Paper Things

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

I'm evasive. Instead of saying how I feel, I write things like this.

 

 

I fold it in my pocket

I keep it

close.

You can’t see it,

But I breathe it

When no one knows.

I break it and then I tape it

closed.

This crystal ball is a showing

A crimson soul.

Ink stains me, surrounding

the better hopes.

 

All that it was is now a

day dream:

Colors cross on eyelids stitched closed

Rip and stitch them

closed.

This black thread like lashes

burns me;

Dreams scatter like ashes

into earth and ocean.

 

I grasp hope

by the throat and

thrash it.

 

I fold it

like butterfly wings

into pockets

full of paper things.


Submitted: April 05, 2012

© Copyright 2022 Asatira. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:

Comments

Snowflake7

This was a wonderful poem, I really liked it (: I'm going to read more now, keep up the good work!

Sat, April 28th, 2012 1:47am

Author
Reply

Thanks! :) I'll post more; I have tons of poetry that's not here.

Sat, April 28th, 2012 9:28am

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