he calls you
paperclip
not because you hold everyone together
when the wind tries so hard
to scatter souls
or because your eyes flash hints of silver
when you talk about your favorite song
or because your lip ring taints your kisses
metallic.

paperclip
because he can downsize you in an instant
replacing you with a version of yourself
that doesn’t weigh his pockets down
your body now too small to hold your essence
and a mouth that will only open wide enough
to swallow.
you are easily forgotten
but somehow always end up
attached to his keychain.

paperclip
because he can bend you to his will
and you don’t even notice
until everything else
begins falling out of your grasp.
every time he snaps you back into place
the world has only changed
but a fraction of a centimeter
and you’re used to measuring your life in kilometers.

paperclip
because he is a staple
leaving puncture wounds in everything he touches
a few drops of blood in every corner of your mind
and when you learn how to extract him from your heart
no goodbye is successful enough to patch
permanent holes you fold yourself in upon
and pretend not to notice.
to this day,
that chapter of your life remains dog-eared
and you wonder
why you still have trouble
picking locks.