Paper Skin Cells
By Ela F
Published 29 August 2019
The paper knows better
than my pen this storm
holding down a hurricane
muscles melt
I press play on memory
amplify olfactory
these thin slices of wood
absorb my heat
if burnt nothing is lost
stored in my hippocampus
I hoard stories and collect music
I re-write myself
over and over
it is the same journal
these pages
replace themselves like
skin cells
I press down the keys
type me up
It’s tap tap tap tap soooooothing