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Jan 2020
I have mastered the art
of making myself small;
the years have taught me
how to fold myself
step by step,
edge to edge
into pinwheels and paper lilies
mindlessly left in infinitesimal space —
an instinct —
a secret slipping into the unconscious,
left beneath the mattress,
left behind the doors.

The years — they've taught me
how to take my heart out —
take it apart and fold it
into a thousand paper cranes —

all cooped up in my ribs.

Their wings, decaying
with all the wishes
I never allowed myself to make.

Their beaks, pecking on the flowers,
on the wheels,
on my skin:
an obsession, a compulsion,
a ritual for symmetry,

a constant flipping,
a ceaseless folding,

until i am small enough —
insignificant enough to attract no attention,
to remain unseen, unheard,
unnoticed in the room.

And here, in this infinitesimal space
I have mastered the art
of making myself small.
fray narte
Written by
fray narte  23/F/Philippines
(23/F/Philippines)   
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