I float, I cannot swim, I cannot walk, and I cannot run, I float. Ungrounded by expectations in limitless boundaries I float as people breath me in and out in a rythmic anthem. I am incorporated into your very veins and flesh, but leave just as quickly, I am not liquid water, I do not become your constant lifeline. I become air, or rather a fog, hardened in icy spectrums that clouds your vision, incatchable and hard to breath. Like a disease I infect many people, fascinated with the idea of wandering into sinking cloud, slight as it is. If you shine light through me, I'd shine a variety of colors ranging from red to purple. And though this may seem harsh, I only stay for a while before returning to sky and earth, as the people stuck on the ground know I'll be coming back, they don't seem to mind. As cold as this might be, I couldn't care enough, the time I spend living through systems and exploring through people is enough for me. I enjoy the time I spend enjoying the sunsets and sunrises in the heavens, and the playful rushing of the water as I glide through it. And if I must repeat, I am not water, I am not air, I am fog, naturally created and needed with mixed opinions about me. I am both soft and hard and somewhere in the picture.
