Knifes to throw don't make the distance so it's arrows now instead
I cry just sitting in the silence of my lungs, killing me with every breath read aloud in my head
When you remind me of how stupid a child I am, complaining, being the woman I mime so often
When I consider how terrible it would really be to drive off that cliff right next to me
When I calm my cries with telling myself I could live without you in my life
And yet I envy you, for you can feel a kind of love for yourself without guilt or fear
Every morning again, when the tide of sleep no longer drowns me in strange fantasies of you in my bed
I sink back into utopia of past lives, only pushing deeper into my wounds
My own blood shed by my own failure now illustrating my own songs of blues
All those paper airplanes that were once rings fly past the red lights, only feel cuts and stings.
YOU ARE READING
paper poetry II
PoetryCalliope, Erato, Euterpe A little collection of rhymes and poems for you to read if you like. The collection is always growing. The refrenced books, music or films aren't mine, but inspirational. Second poetry book of my paper poetry.
