Paper People

I've never known a person
Who isn't made of paper.
Fake, friendless, flimsy, frilly,
We are all fools of falseness.
Is depth so dreadful for us
That words mean more than actions,
That life itself mocks better
Than this poem mocks us all?

Dear You

Oh yes, we hear the impurities infesting this world. They cut, they crippled, they killed us. You were made of us. But don't die now; you're not done, not ready yet. Even your death would not end our existence until you have discovered the peace of Earth. We still love these shattered pieces of a life. You can tape us back together and keep searching for wholeness. Hollow heart holds hidden hope. You won't succumb to the fear that fills nothing. You cannot create the hardened shell that surrounds so many who have hurt like you. Please continue. Future will find the unnameable quality that you ache to attain.

Love,

the remnants of your soul