Just like paper, she is
Ghostly white with
Thin lines marking
Each separation that life
Has given her.

Just like paper, she is
As fragile and easily
Tearable if you
Aren't careful with your
Touch.

Just like paper, she is
Used over and over,
Tossed to the side
Once a mistake is
Made upon her.

Just like paper, she is
Told that she is important,
That she needs to be saved.
But those same people
Abuse her with their markings.

Just like paper, she is
Dependable for others.
Bending this way and that,
Just to make the abusers
Feel better about themselves.

Just like paper, she is
A keeper of secrets
That I write upon her flesh.
Each line a confession
Of my inner desires.

Just like paper, she is
A dying breed.
Dying by my hands and her own.
Soon she will be recycled
And a new piece will be used.

She is just like paper.