Paper Palm

I buried the kid who cried too loud Left him in a room I never clean I starved the one who chased every crowd Till he faded out of the frame I ghosted the girl who begged to please Blocked her on the mirror in my hall I broke the boy who dropped to his knees Till he learned to never call I have killed so many versions of myself Just to sit here, breathing, quiet on this shelf Every past life folded in a paper palm I have died so many times to call this calm I fired the voice that swore I’d fail Shoved it in a box under the bed I drowned the dream that tipped the scale Let it sink, heavy in my chest instead I burned the bridge to my old rage Watched the smoke write my old names I tore the scripts, page by page Now the silence doesn’t feel the same I have killed so many versions of myself Just to sit here, breathing, quiet on this shelf Every past life folded in a paper palm I have died so many times to call this calm So tell me, is this peace or just Exhaustion with a softer face? (oh) Did I find a home in here Or just run out of escape? I have killed so many versions of myself Just to sit here, breathing, quiet on this shelf Every past life folded in a paper palm I have died so many times to call this calm I have died so many times to call this calm