She was composed
entirely of paper;
green eyes rolled dollar bills, hair twisted confetti.
Her voice was faint
like the shushed rustle of library book pages
and when sunlight found her
she grew invisible,
rays shining through vellum bones.
She was asked how it was to live
without footprints in the snow,
featherweight,
unchained to the earth,
unwed to gravity.
Whatever quiet answer she gave,
no one ever heard.
Mostly, the paper girl was forgotten
until she folded herself into an airplane
and disappeared.
entirely of paper;
green eyes rolled dollar bills, hair twisted confetti.
Her voice was faint
like the shushed rustle of library book pages
and when sunlight found her
she grew invisible,
rays shining through vellum bones.
She was asked how it was to live
without footprints in the snow,
featherweight,
unchained to the earth,
unwed to gravity.
Whatever quiet answer she gave,
no one ever heard.
Mostly, the paper girl was forgotten
until she folded herself into an airplane
and disappeared.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




Join the Discussion
This article has 9 comments. Post your own!