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
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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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