When Pens Refuse

Clench your wrists and

Slit your fists

(It’s only paper-cuts, my dear)

My skull is just a paperweight 

For poems I wrote of hope-shaped fear

Clear your eyes and 

Dry your head

(It’s only paper-cuts, my friend)

The child in you raised a man 

Since since one else would in the end 

Leather soul and

Feather skin 

(It's only paper cuts, my love)

This barricade you've built yourself 

It fits you like a brick-laid glove 

Change my heart and 

Break my mind 

(It's only paper cuts, my saint)

And I will pray the rosary 

For every friendly fiend you paint 

Stand in the stars

Reach for the sea

(It’s only paper-cuts, my muse)

Art is long and leaves a scar

On hearts that scream when pens refuse