I am numb in my mouth.
The glue births infinite creases.
The papers stick in all places
that I don’t want them to.
I can barely make out the words
held between the sticky creases.
I pull a piece out, the papers crumble.
And the glue sticks to my hand!
And between my fingers!
Now I feel like the helpless papers —
creases form all over me,
trapping words I can barely understand.
And words are written all over me;
the words are sticky!
I force my skin apart.
But I force gently.
For the papers may tear.
And my skin may break.
And you know how much I hate the ache!
I look down at the papers,
and the pieces look back in pain.
The smiles have made me numb in my mouth.
The frowns have deformed, and now I cannot change.
