Am I an impending emotion coming forth
Hovering over a crowd - never part of it because I am too afraid to have my feet graze the ground?
I'm not quite sure.
Am I an awkward quiet confidence that's presence is always known, never questioned and never challenged?
I do not know.
Maybe I am both, an organic shape created one way and then self molded into a stronger form.
Maybe I am a piece of paper manipulated to look like a wonderful part of nature, confident in my own shape, unsure of how others will react.

I hang, I ling at a detached level. I hover over thoughts and words.
I am made of simple things that have been pushed, prodded and abused into a form that scares me, but has become my new true nature.

Paper, nature, myself, it's all universal in a visceral sense