Clouds and Rain

She has the wings

She has the wings
She wears them, she moves them
She glides.
Turbulence
It rocks her but she glides.
She is free, she is movement.
Fluidity, intelligence, a flowing river of knowledge
She glides
Self deprivation, and loathing, and darkness
It hunts her like the prey she is
She glides
Mechanical and yet swift.
She is programmed to move on, move steady
Can she?
No
She's falling, she's frantic, she's losing control

She's gliding
Outwardly she's not, falling
She is in fact, soaring

She won't appease them, she won't entertain them
She has the wings
She wears them, she moves them

She won't give in she's strong, she's fighting
She's flailing, losing her grasp, she can't take it any more.

She's gliding.

She has them, she can use them, she's gliding because she has to
Because she can't stop
Autopilot
No

She's falling, she's screaming
Calling for help,
No replies
No answers
She seeks but doesn't find
She hits turbulence
Hard
Strikes her wing and she loses balance
Meaning
Control
She craves to do what they say but
She can't
She isn't gliding
She's cascading
A snowflake

A unique individual she is, she has the wings
But she doesn't wear them
She doesn't move them
She is free

She is roaring laughter and tripping and falling
She is mistakes and clouds and rain
She isn't an angel she is
She is
Alive
Human
Free
Flawed
She is.