i have been told i have wings and that i could fly, if i wanted to but i feel my heart is too heavy (perhaps it is made of stone instead of fire, and my wings of paper; fragile, incendiary) i look up at the sun and wonder whether i will ever be able to reach it, or whether i will simply crash and
burn (perhaps the ocean would be a better place for me;i am not one to shine brightly amongst the clouds) [x] [x]