Paper House

Constricted by your winds of frustration
I watch as autumn leaves mimic scenes from our past
Not knowing what dream this life takes place in
I question the stability of this paper house
Wondering if its premise will last

Caged within this corrupt landscape
This keep…
My Jail
I regress back into the harbors of the seams
Awaiting the whispers of its tall tails

While tracing the lines of my emotional backdrop
Gliding the mind across wet paint
I try to focus on all the angles
Yet compassion does not line the foundation of these transparent
Placing hands upon rubber doors
Not knowing which way they sway
Patiently watching as they resist and shake

But never open…
Locked by forceful hands again

To you my welcome has become dismissed
And like abrasive skies with winter falling
Stricken, relentless behavior
Denying seasons calling
I’m forced back into the hallows, the somber seclusion of
unsteady halls
Searching for the wonders of this paper house
While timelessly wanting back into your arms
Your shallow responses exert dull laughter
And your words pierce through the silence
Like sharpened arrows
And from their hurt I cannot hide
Yet my trials bred no regrets but do so much harm

To take my crown and defile my name
You’ll take it all
And to my demise, you’ll look to me in shame

Confiding in a sovereign moon
This paper house begins to move
The luminosity of hope teases in the distance
Yet these rooms of endless travel are forever changing
…unbalanced and shallow…

Flickers of memories rise like mist amongst the floor
Anomalies to this houses existence
Soon become swallowed in the sands of our past
Fragmented by the decay of what was
This house will never last

I’ve tried to break from this sorrow
Penetrating the deepest of this houses curvatures
Yet trap doors and false walls always bring me back to
With hands of stone upon my face
I close my eyes to keep from breaking
Living in the memories of our past
As fear floods this hollow space
This paper house will never last



10 thoughts on “Paper House

    1. Why thanks Mitchell! I don’t feel I have the credentials to claim the title of a professional as I am always learning and growing in the craft. My work is based on self experience both in the realm of reality and within the mind (lucid dreaming).

      Thank you again for your response it is truly appreciated and I’m glad you enjoyed Paper House.



    1. Why thank you Allayna! Your reply made my day! I truly appreciate you kind words. In honesty all of my work comes from an unchained place like a unrealenting stirrng of the spirit. There have been times where I’d awake in the night to write, in the middle of the work day, driving or even in the middle of writing another peice. I’ve learned to let go when the moment arises and allow the words to come freely and not think about what is being written until all that is needed to be said is out. I’ve learned so much about myself when working that way.

      Thanks again



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