Paper.
He was a paper people.
And life was clean and white.
With sky blue lines.
There was a simple rule.
Never write outside the lines,
He was taught that this was life.
The life of a paper people.
There was this girl,
She was fire.
Dangerous and Forbidden.
New.
Most importantly she didn't write inside the lines,
In fact she burnt them to the ground.
She was wild and beautiful.
And he fell in love with her.
He thought it was love,
It was the closest thing,
To inexplicable as he had come.
The closest thing to outside the lines.
He called it love.
It must be love.
Paper people and girls of fire.
Such a bad combination.
Such a perfect combination.
Because to him,
That was what it was all about.
Burning, being consumed by passion, emotion a fire blazing within.
To live in the moment.
To forget about time and burn.
To step outside the lines.
It went as expected.
Because paper people has no place dancing with fire.
But if you must know,
While the fire consumed him,
While she kissed his lips and his soul left him in swirls of smoke.
That he was smiling,
He felt alive.
His ashes were found outside of the sky blue lines.
He had truly lived.
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EPIPHANY
Poetry"I'm desperately trying to heal myself." •. •. •. •. •. I strongly believe art isn't supposed to be pretty, or liked and understood by the masses. Art is supposed to make you unco...
