Diorama

Like paper dolls, to be crafted
Like tears to be shed
And I mean it like the lump in my throat
And the tears I’m holding back.
its taking everything I have
to hold myself steady in this moment
and it feels like all the previous times
I have ever been afraid
when facing opposition
I feel it, like the snowfall in the mountains
as her jagged teeth beckon me
like an Olympian siren that only I can hear

my attention was consumed in the minutia
Like a symphony playing out
To the tune of collaboration
Bob, weave, fuckin’ shit flying everywhere

And the sound that came out of the cold
Was merely wasted time
Time that I want to spend with my loved ones
Time that I want to spend with you
And we get so little of it
And its unfair
And I hate it.

I spend so much time outside of myself,
Looking inward
As if we are paper dolls, stuck in a dance
That cannot be undone
Our ballet unfolds and unfolds
As petals of time consume us
Becoming closer to ultimacy
by growing away further and further
from one another

and I am filled with rage in this way:
that I do not have the power to transcend these aspects
I would do so much to reach you
To awaken you from the dream
I know the demons that lurk in those nightmares
That gnaw at the core of our fears and psyche-
And I have faced these demons so many times
That look forward to our encounters-
And I know that bravery is contagious

Like paper dolls
I take part in the drama
As it unfolds in a way that is quasi-theatrical
I feel so utterly compelled to elaborate
To expand upon this narrative
To open up
About all of the things,
I want to hide in the boxes,
of myself
I want to share with you a piece of my humanity
As best I could capture
Through actions and words.

as if we are frozen in paper and glued to the frame of something
that we must participate in
every day it feels like I am looking into my own life
as if designed by a child, seeking credit for some other menial task
above me, the helicopters growl through the sky
their blades, chopping my thoughts into invisible confetti
and it rains down upon this land like the sorrow of stupidity
their scenes frozen in time, crudely taped in place by clumsy and foolish fingers
and I must delve, compelled to fix my gaze upon these
little people and their little lives.

like paper dolls
fixed into permanence
suspended into a flimsy frame
they take part in a never ending ballet
silently dancing
consumed in the fragility of the moment.
and I am of them
diligently putting their movements to music.