I've always hated having long nails.
I let my nails grow
so I could scratch your back
when you wanted comfort.
Now that you're gone
I don't want to cut them anymore.
I don't know if that's because I want to use them
to claw into my own skin
and rip out the parts of me that crave you,
or because I'm hoping
that I still have parts of you
under my nails.

We are all torn paper dolls
No sounds we make when we do fall
Could etch into our porcelain skin
How easy paper is to bend
We have been cut and ripped and folded
Dipped into glue mached and molded
I have learned I am not that thin
My will remains though paper bends
I know we all are paper dolls
One by one in line to fall
I thought us weak until I knew
The falls were a choice
Instead I flew