It becomes soggy and wet
The paper starts peeling off
Flimsy and weak
It starts to leak
The kids chewing around the rim
The teens filling them to the brim
I take a small sip from my cup
In my throat, I feel a lump
Playing with the paper peels that fell off
Under that layer, the paper fibres feel soft
The cup is my only friend here
My vision begins to smear
I wish I could just disappear
~21/5/21

There is something about a blank paper
That makes you slightly sad.
The exciting thought of potential.
The beauty it never had
The thoughts that race through your mind
That you wish to write.
But if you don't have a pencil
Dreams can never light
Then that paper will only ever be blank.
The cold lonely sheet of paper,
Which no pencil has kissed.
No hand has traced.
No pen has met,
Will never be what it should.
A story. A song. A picture there.
A Poem. A riddle. A letter of care.
Not a word, or letter there will be
Upon that piece of paper.
The empty tale upon this land
That is whispered to and from
That is you cannot read
You also cannot write.
If you cannot write
Then you won't give that paper
The opportunity
To live.

-3nwlry

◊

There's crumpled papers, ripped apart
teared to shreds
lying scattered on the floor

I've been here all day
trying to fold and fold
paper, over and over by itself
My hands are starting to get sore

Floating paper mache's
near the water, too been there all day.
Paper crane, where are you going?
don't leave me here in this disarray

Paper icicles, piercing as it might.
Paper...
all paper
the village, the people, the cars
So lovely.

A land of peace.
Dare be no fright

I loom over the sight
I shaped this all! Might i be pleased

oh this feels so right

A paper village
I created, oh what a sight! -
Paper faces, wearing a mask
on a parade

villagers
don't leave me now
not ever
as you go on and celebrate today
your lands will only grow bigger

All will be okay.

So long you don't wash away,
nor flee the village
i'd shaped
in the center of this disarray
◊

In their paper skin
Under the burning sun
Smile the paper flowers
In bracts, pink and white
purple or orange
Colourful red,
never fade or bleed
Evergreen in their woody homes
They fly with the wind
In their paper skin

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, souls shatter up too:}


dear heart on glass

dear hands on a stance

dear soul on torns

dear fingers on tires

dear mind on empty

dear thoughts on screams

dear God on the heavenly winters

my pen is hindered

because of the dreams I refuse to remember

too hard for me to surrender

to cage my fury into fonts of lavender

I want them back

demand the need demand the lack

of the splutter of my nerves on the thrilling track

can life become more lifeless than that???!!!

want my body on a panic attack?

or the blades to sharpen their steeps their venture

to cut deep to flush the ink and stain it on keep

or maybe an abandonment

shut of the door they said they inclined

tires no more for a feel

                                                            
                                                                              -------ravenfeels