Year: 
2017

fair-weather friends—

 
cut-out paper dolls unfolding 
from white paper 
 
cheering triumphs atop pyramids
successes, not struggles
 
overlooking sturdy shoulders
and bruising practice falls
 
you start to look the same
row after row 
 
flat and colorless
strung between triangles of air—
 
pieces of you, missing 
that harsh hands snipped away
 
crinkling and wavering
i see through you
 
i want to crumple you
pile you in the corner, without care
 
as missed shots at the wire basket 
beneath my desk
 
because i have other shots to take
with more weight 
 
than paper
 
 
 
This poem was first published in Wanton F*ckery.
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