“he calls you paperclip not because you hold everyone together when the wind tries so hard to scatter souls or because your eyes flash hints of silver when you talk about your favorite song or because your lip ring taints your kisses metallic. paperclip because he can downsize you in an instant replacing you with a version of yourself that doesn't weigh his pockets down your body now too small to hold your essence and a mouth that will only open wide enough to swallow. you are easily forgotten but somehow always end up attached to his keychain. paperclip because he can bend you to his will and you don't even notice until everything else begins falling out of your grasp. every time he snaps you back into place the world has only changed but a fraction of a centimeter and you're used to measuring your life in kilometers. paperclip because he is a staple leaving puncture wounds in everything he touches a few drops of blood in every corner of your mind and when you learn how to extract him from your heart no goodbye is successful enough to patch permanent holes you fold yourself in upon and pretend not to notice. to this day, that chapter of your life remains dog-eared and you wonder why you still have trouble picking locks.”