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