place a square piece of paper with the
white side up, because you can’t
keep your overly-coloured emotions on
display to the world. fold it along
diagonally, both sides, to make sure you
get an even surface to go against
the jagged edges of your thoughts. next
bring 2 opposite tips together, to
meet at the center, fail at the task and
swear at yourself for not making
ends meet. but, nevertheless, step four
asks to fold over your mistake &
let the bottom half meet the upper, thus
beginning a fresh slate. repeat it
on the other side, gently nudging the edge
to open up for you, to help meet
you midway, to give you all it’s taking from
you. but it doesn’t – no one does.
realisation of the form it’s beginning to take
– both the paper, and your life –
awakens you to new realities you now have
to face. how things can’t go back,
how the paper cannot be straightened out
now without those pesky, eternal
creases. well, you sigh. better to be in total
control of what makes your heart.
easier to live when you know fully well that
origami hearts cannot be broken.
Can’t be a poet without a little heartbreak? Watch me as I channel my lockdown depression into some! I don’t know when this turned into a sad piece, but hey, as long as it’s self-inflicted.