The weight of my sadness pulls on my heart
the iron chains of my thoughts restrain me to my hatred
every movement feels like carrying the earth on my fingertips
it drains me of all hope and light
leaving only the shell of what once was a happy little girl
skipping through feels of cotton
now passing through different levels of hell
only to find that what she had been searching for was hers all along
the draught of her mind makes the painting dry up
and makes the summer leaves shrivel and die
only to be crunched by the crushing weight of a human
like a wave of anger
and what will be a board to float on
if only the universe would grant it
