paper dolls
far and wide
walking around
looking perfect
drawn faces
all the same
acutely flat
enough to slice
I’m not flat
or perfect
so I can’t fit
in paper town
I’ve lost hope
to find love
I’ll just take grief
and papercuts
must be an angel’s grace
to see her standing there
someone else lost in paper town
with her own scars from paper dolls
her face is real, not drawn
it’s a lonely blue light
in a whitewashed crowd of static
dolls wearing their brightest faces
I know that she’s not flat
and she is not perfect
because I know how deep she is
but I could just jump in and dive
I take her by the hand
soft and painless for once
while we trade our sorrows and joys
feelings too heavy for paper