Trust

You punched me once.

A normal hit,

One that should have bruised

Or maybe cracked a rib.

 

But you forgot that I am paper,

That someone took my flesh and blood

And left a cutout.

 

Your hand passed straight through,

Tearing my parchment organs apart,

Papyrus bones shattering into dust.

And we both stopped —

You couldn’t even look at me

Just pulled back,

Shreds of pulp clinging

As you fled the scene.

 

I took shoji

And did my best to cover up

The you-shaped cavern in me.

 

Now you’re back,

And the every-day way

You move your fingers

Looks just like

Your fist

Going through

Me.

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