Paper

the sound of the many sheets of paper
being stacked
and unstacked
stapled 
and sorted 
in the endless cuebicles that surround me
inside the filing cabinet confines of my brain 
information swimming in the see of input
output
and in-between-put 
drowing in the words that remain unspoken
and unwritten
for fear of someone reading them
though
no one wants to read the heartsick, desperate love poems of a fourteen year old nothing anyway
so i have no clue as to why i would be nervous to write 
maybe
because im scared 
that somebody will want to
that somebody will see my messy, scratched out, eraser smudged pages of overflowing emotion
and somebody
will smile when they read them
because
they feel the same way
it seems easier to suffer alone
than to open up with the fear of being betrayed
so i file 
and staple
and sort through the things i feel 
and the thoughts that threaten to exude rain drops from my eyes 
i hide them away beneath smiles that hurt more then the old band aid covered wounds 
and reside in my small nook of meaningless facts
papers of words that mean nothing to me 
other than temporary distraction from the things i cant deal with 
did you know that narwhales on occasion can grow two tusks? 
things that keep me from frowning so much my face becomes a mask of negativity.
like paper
so fragile is human emotion
we scribble all over it
and cover its real meaning with words
that line up not with how we truly feel.