The Girl in the Photograph
I’m a cardboard queen,
in your paper mache parade.
I’ve taken my heart,
my thoughts with me,
leaving you this frozen smile.
You’re free to cut me out,
scrawl profanities over me,
or burn me to ashes.
I will not feel
the blades of your scissors,
the flame of your match.
I’m no skin and flesh,
just cellulose fiber.
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