April 12, 2018
By Anonymous

I am paper.

Easy to tear; even easier to tear down.

That's where my sensitivity comes into play.

I am transparent with the emotions I display

they are written in black ink all over my face.

I am thin with the walls I use to let all the wrong people in.

I am eager to let another crumble me into nothing.

Paper is nothing without any words.

Much like paper, I am too.

I will not accept any compliments about the surface of my skin.

The looks I display mean nothing if there is no more to see.

Compliment my soul, not what is visible to the naked eye.

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