Origami Man

Perfect paper: scanned analysis reveals a fragile stable

balance of fused fibres; body flexible not fractured, straight 

edges that never fray. All moments fade—shade falls away

as I fold, make, twist, create; who knows how long each 

butterfly takes. In control; lending it shape, reverse fold

pleat precisely then hold. Hundreds, thousands, flutter

around me, calming company—soundless, blind. Intricately

designed, each fold measured, calculated, controlled. Folding

forwards—unfolding back, nimbly, strictly moulding.

 

Beautiful butterfly's first fold   so bright   so bold   alive

free   floating   light   perfect in flight     while I linger

around     deep, deep  down   in this valley   paralysingly 

bright    leeching dark    low down    at the very    bottom

far   from home   a defeatist quiet   scathingly noisy  place     

alone  down here   for such  a   very   very long      time

 

 is a menace   races all around me   yet still this frozen state

i hate paper cuts   useless hands   why too slow  why too quick

 am i the butterfly   are we the same   standard shapes forged  

never any real aim    i don’t know   something   ever    so

steadily   stole   control    folding and unfolding   bending    

        moulding   i am  twisted  paper   a marred replica with

  eroded  margins   rigid corrugated card   folded all wrong  

c r u m p l e d    someone please unfold me     smooth

the creases inside   need some respite   what do you want 

   from me    stay away     let me be    if i were a butterfly   i would 

be free   perfect   no whispers   no stares    as if i don’t know   

   as if  i’m unaware   but i’m not blind   i hear everything     

        the real    and the unreal   reverberate   on  my     mind 

curse  everything   anything to remember   but undiagnosed

  truths  erase  replace  colourless    shapeless   fear cuts  

 any release   any sleep  shredded  hollow sweep gnawing

swallowing    absorbs all   defeats me   just can’t  tear free

pinned wings   stripped of beating   i am  empty, bare   wish   

 i was a butterfly  fly away   find  my  life   my  mind   i'm somewhere   

out there    somewhere   in here   i want my life

back   mine to own    don’t want to be  origami  anymore

fly  away  butterfly       

              fly  away  home

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