Grey sky,
black branches cracking through,
wet grass,
broken bench,
green in your eyes
and sparks in my heart.

I am sorry I let someone touch
the outline of your lips,

I am sorry I let someone trace the
goosebumps on your arms,

I am sorry I let someone whisper
poetry to your ears,

I am sorry I let someone
break your wings.

If you were a river,
I should never be your friend,
because you're not a river,
you're just an ocean that likes to pretend.

little boat, I see you,
travelling through the subtle waves,
carrying a stranger across,
greeting the dandelions that are by,
underneath you, the creatures hide,
unable to peak through,
little boat, you aren't so little to life.

My feelings are as delicate as smoke,
they too shatter like ash does.

My thoughts take me away,
and then they disappear,
back in the atmosphere of my mind.

I am so sorry for wanting this,
but what's so wrong about wanting it anyways?