Marie Lloyd

I live in a paper town. Everything is made of paper. With one light breeze everything could fall apart. The paper people living in the paper buildings live everyday without noticing how fragile everything is. I am the only one that sees. Broken people. Heartbroken souls traveling through the immensity of nothing. The sky is clear blue but there are clouds in the horizon. Tears left on cheeks and words left unsaid float around in the heads of the people with ink on their paper bodies. People with whole stories on their arms and quotes on the thighs. People that are running out of paper. The sky gets darker by the minute and I can’t stop but notice the stars fighting not to be hidden by the all mighty clouds. Dead but still shining, always trying to stay even a minute longer lingering into the night sky. The paper people feel like strangers. Strangers I once used to know. Once I saw a paper man with colorful ink and for a bit he drew with every color onto my paper skin. But it’s been too long and the ink stands black onto the whiteness of my skin. I think about letting my weight drop. I think about my paper body slowly descending through the air. I think about my paper body hitting the paper ground . The silence of it all. There is a hurricane coming.