Dead Paper

Dead Paper

"My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quivering..."

*all collages and poems are original works by Dead Paper

no one believed there was life in the dark corners of the ceiling,
where the moonlight wouldn’t go, where dreams fell asleep and dreamnt.
but if you looked close, there were doors, and beyond the doors, worlds.
maybe i will see them again, someday,...

leftover sparks
fade quickly
on paper
after thoughts
of all the afterthoughts
I try to save
cutting out
memories and
waiting for the glue
to dry.

hearts
extracted
for each other
warm and dripping,
a cycle of loneliness
coming
to an end.

it’s peculiar,
the power of dust
found in the cold spaces
we dream about
eyes open
and breath held
hoping the snow-globe
we live in
may someday settle.

a rush of waves
on the skin,
a burn of blood
in the heart.
diving headfirst,
holding our breath.

the depth of a universe
looking down at us
as we try to find our way
with shoes untied.

soda pop on the tongue, the fizz and
burn in my lungs, this condensation on
my skin; American summer sun be gentle
and hold me quietly as I try to remember
myself.

i never felt as helpless as i did when i was nine and you were ten
and you picked him over me and i saw you hold his hand and whisper
something that i didn’t hear but wished i did and then you hid
with him behind the old oak tree and i pretended not...

please
don’t look back.
the world is
only
getting older
and soon,
even the sun
will fall
asleep.

we are artists,
deviants
and
destroyers
of the mundane;
feel our touch
and remember.