Torn Paper Thoughts


I live within a castle, towering,
Knit from spun glass, my mother’s yarn

Rattling within an arctic squall, torn paper feeds the fire.

Dry ice chills the ocean waves,
As sea foam laps onto the shore.

My wrath is heated metal,
Running hot,
Then turning cold.

My rage,
An untamed stallion, is corralled, and then contained.

I reach out for solace.
Blinded by smoke
That rises and smolders,
I do not see through the density of my castle’s wall.

I feel, but I fear to weep.
I can laugh when loved ones die..

Torn paper thoughts are blown about in disarray, scattering;
Schizophrenia:
My heart falls and knocks upon its cage,
Barred from the world outside.

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