less paper than led

And then, i come back home,

do not take off my coat

and lay there on the floor

reading my notes one

by one,

by one

the paper, thin

the letters, tiny

less paper than led it's as if the writing has overtaken 

the pages, 

completely

my hands begin trembling from holding up the words to my eyes so i must let go

of the paper it sets

on the ground 

next to my eyes and

i gaze at it, afar 

my body

flat on the ground its

shallow breaths

i want to pick them up, 

the words

i want to read them again,

again and again

but i can't lift my finger

or ask my sister, through whisper

because she lays behind me but

elsewhere

and slowly my eyes become heavy my body feels

warm

right there on the floor, i don't call for help

and thus i end

upon the paper 

are written the words 'and then, he went back home, 

did not take off his coat

and laid there

on the floor.'

and i don't think people can see

that you too, can feel. 

and thus i end, 

thus i end