there are paper figures that dance around
and cut my skin, with the way they
eavesdrop and take only half the story
running circles like ants
i wish i could light a fire
under them until they fall like rain
into a pile of assumptions gone dry
and catch their ashes onto the purpose
they cast out onto the streets
these paper dolls
they hum like witches
they flap like eyelashes
trying to keep awake
these dancing flakes
they tear
they tear
they tear
where has my peace gone?
this work of art that once grew and grew and grew
all ripped up and caught in the wind
whistling melodies i cannot recognise
paper eyes
all around
open, shut
open, shut
take them off me,
take them out of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment