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Shredded Paper Doll
Light and feathery.
I am weak.
Easily torn up.
Almost instantly worn down.
Whenever I waver,
they shut me down,
cut me off,
say I am illegitimate in just one easy cough.
I continue to block,
Hell, I even try to to throw some attacks back here and there.
But, a paper doll like me can only take so much.
Lacerations that bleed profusely.
Wrists with angry rings throbbing immensely.
Leave it alone
and the damage will be permanent.

Sure, you may dress me the way you please.
I will plaster on that smile you love so dearly.
Yet, you are too busy to notice the cuts you made on me.
Grabbing your scissors.
Claiming and creating the tiny snips.
Do you not realize these slits can spread?
A splitting headache does not just stop splitting.
A crack on a sidewalk does not cement itself.
Yes, you are a busy person.
Whether it is mentally or physically.
Pain equals hurting me.
Be repulsive.
Be whoever the hell you want to be.
Keep dreaming as you say: "People love me."
I just cannot believe I attempted to even raise you higher than me
as my paper-thin arms falter.
Blaming it all on your alter.
-Snow that Flutters down like Feathers