i wrap myself in layers of bravery,
woven of ink and moonlight.
i walk the mists of unknown journeys;
the wending, pot-holed footpaths in the
midnight forest of my soul.
but despite how well i cloak my heart against
the doubtful night and seeping dark,
still, the cruel tendril'd fingers grope
through the cracks and folds
of paper courage
and leave me