Can you run,
Your softened fingers,
Along the outskirts,
Of my brittle bones.

Push them down,
Until they jut out,
And pierce through,
My cracking skin.

Can you hold,
My head under,
The murky depts,
Of darkened water.

Sew my bleeding,
Lips together,
And make sure,
I cannot breathe.

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.

he wishes he could collect girls
like butterflies
pin them to the wall,
show them off,
trophies.
but I am the only one
who ever flew into the net