a heart made of paper is just as fragile as mine.
some edges curved. some sharp.
so carefully crafted by the hands of someone divine.
not quite as frail as paper.
but once you stand on it.
crumple it in your fist.
or shove it away carelessly.
the marks left will never fully disappear.
they can be smoothed out by the touch of others, the strives of them trying so hard to re-craft it.
but it will never be the same as it was before.
it may become worn, and perished,
but a heart made of paper is just like mine.
it may be easily crumpled.
but something made of paper can never be shattered.
YOU ARE READING
we still exist here - c.k
Poesiaa collection of poems - written by an old soul trapped in a young body, about love, doubt and heartbreak. these are in the order that I wrote them, in the order I fell love. these have been written over a period of time, my skills improve overtime...
