I cannot,
Soar through the air,
And fly freely,
Across the thermal,
Winds.

My outstretched hands
Cannot delve into,
The rain clouds,
And disperse,
The ever growing,
Fractals of grey.

Water droplets,
Causing my skin,
To concave.
Leaving me limp,
Exceedingly fragile.
My bones,
Crumbling under,
The pressure.

It's as if,
I am your paper plane,
Left lying,
In the murky,
Puddle water.

*Daunghting realms,
Of forgetful delight,
Causing me,
Too all but,
disintegrate.

I am alone,
Like a structureless prose,
A dark waste of space,
A wilting rose.

I am alive,
But they'd rather I die,
Buried deep underground,
Never to be found.

I never understood sadness
Until there was no reason for it
And I still felt it