Read Poem: Tissue, by Joseph Marshall

In my hand I hold a tissue as I talk to you
I play with it even though it’s already seen its use
Its texture is dampened but uncompromised
From its introduction to the corner of my eyes
But now it rests between my fingers
And is delicately folded over and over

Talking still, I place it down and spread it over my lap
I tug the corners to ensure that it is properly flat
Then I fold it in half, making sure it’s creased neatly
Then again and again until its folded symmetrically
Now it’s layered as thick as a wedding cake
But compact as my hands wished it to be made

The more I speak, the more I’m shorter of breath
But now I’ve got the tissue rolled up like a cigarette
I twist it like a towel and spin it around
I turn it over, side to side and upside down
I give it more thought than this conversation
What would you think if you saw me in this condition?

The end draws near and the rivers on my cheeks have begun to dry
But the tissue remains in my grasp and I don’t know why
How can my tears be carried by something so paper-thin?
What was it for if it just ends up in the bin?
It must have been some chat for my mind to stray so far
If only tissues could hide the weeping of my heart

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest