"Paper Moons" by Eva Jara

In dim-lit rooms where paper moons dissolve on tongues of fire,

A painted world begins to bend around borrowed desires.

Crystal comets kiss the world and flood the chest with light,

But dawn collects their glitter remains, abandoned by the night.

Green ghosts curl slow in amber air, soft sermons in the haze,

Promising a peace in water that only ever strays.

My mirror learns a thousand angelic masks, a soul was never meant,

While outside waits a hollow world.

glass walls and a million eyes,

where hogs scripts our breath, and living feels like lies.

So kings of fleeting galaxies drift pale beneath the sun,

For every door they floated through, a deeper one, undone.

The laughter fades to hollow bells that echo down the hall,

Where paper moons once held them up, but never broke the fall.

The crystal comets no longer bright, their colors running thin,

And every borrowed paradise begins to fold within.

A quiet room, a silent dawn, the mirror cold and bare,

The kings of fleeting galaxies now vanish into the air.

For every mother’s child, they tried to keep trapped in a trembling hand,

The world reclaimed them, like scattered light, drifting grains of sand.

And you grow up.