So I crafted and drenched
The origami cranes with
Salty tears of heart ache
Till I had no more.

I folded the sheets of my
Textbooks into paper boats,
My worries boarded them
And I let them set sail.

I whipped out my watercolours
And let my anxieties ruin one
Masterpiece after another
Till I fulfilled all of them.

I burnt my book of musings
That never did more than
Amuse me and my troubles;
I took delight in the numbness.

I wipe the whiteboards quickly
Before I can even think of those
Colourful goals and achievements
That are only ever fantasised.

I stow the plastic covered, unopened
Boxes of crayons and dried paints
In a drawer that overflowed with
Wasted dreams, it doesn’t shut.

I stare at documents with one eye
And mandalas with the other,
My right hand colours as my left
Is left on the bundle of hopes.

Now I sit surrounded by my art
But nothing to be remembered
By. Bye-bye. Time to leave.

I was told not to cry
So I crafted, but it would
Appear that I misunderstood.

You can hear my whimpers
In my crafts, begging to be heard
Refusing to budge over and leave.

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