Fresh Hell

 

I had a dream
I was a paper boy
I had paper hair
Paper teeth
I crinkled when I laughed
And when I cried
I fell apart.
Paper isn’t allowed to cry.
Human moistures destroy
Anything made of paper.

The next day
My old papers fallen away
I’d become paper mache.

One step stronger
For having been destroyed.
It will happen again
And again.

Always a circumstance is greater than you.
Always you are crushed.
Always you are reconstructed.

Scar tissue
Is stronger
Than anything ordinary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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