Paper, poetry by Yves K. Morrow at Spillwords.com

Paper

Paper

written by: Yves K. Morrow

 

I am paper
in the hands of a child.
You touch me
carelessly.
Your eager fingers
smudge my skin
until all that is left
is a window of a woman,
a tragic sliver of white
in an ever darkening room.

I thin beneath
your constant erasure.
What I was
and what I am
interchangeable
and imperfect.
My needs are
inconsequential,
my nerves naked,
my heart fuzzy and grey.
I am merely a product
for your amusement.
You do not care,
you only do
that which comes easiest
to you.
As I lie here exposed
I wonder if my pain
is in anyway
a reflection of the artist
or if the artist
is simply thoughtless.

You leave uncertain marks.
Marks which tear
at my insides.
Marks which lie
scar-adjacent.
The stars weep
and you laugh
as I,
crowded and remade
a thousand times,
become a void.

You scribble
in my margins,
your shapeless sentiments,
your waxy, wavering lines
untranslatable,
sometimes offensive.
You tear my edges
and crush me
into a ball
with your fist.

I am only a draft.
You will never
carry me to the end.
I will not become
a memory for you.
I am nothing precious.
In me there is only
the notion of a life.

Yves K. Morrow

Yves K. Morrow

I am an American living in a small village in Sweden with my husband and soon to be teenager daughter. My poetry deals with mental illness (in particular PTSD resulting from childhood trauma, Depression, Social Anxiety, and Dissociative Disorder), spiritual dilemmas/life’s big questions, social ineptitudes, rebellion and misanthropy, love both sublime and dysfunctional, grief, obsession, and really everything and anything to do with being human/the human condition. My fascination with the human condition led me to go door to door as a child asking people to share their life stories with me. In gathering the life stories of others I came to understand what it was to be truly loved, not because I was loved, but through the love of others for their own families. It was this undaunting belief in a reality where love exists which gave me the strength to break away from my abusive past and seek out healthier more meaningful relationships, not just with others but with myself as well. I manage a creative writing group that offers daily writing prompts, in addition, to my blog.
Yves K. Morrow

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