moving at a slow pace seems to be an irreversible sign of my inner thoughts getting the best of me.
drag my feet and slouch my head as if only to show discontent.
ah fuck.
ain't it obvious, little bird?
can you spell out your thoughts on the speed of my movements?
just curiosity... that's all.

oh, you wild little sapling. watch as you glide over the air...
and what a terrible shame it is when you trickle down on to the ground,
only to be ornery and undisciplined.
unstable and confused.
god you're great. so alive.
look at I. dead and slow.
weepy depressed like.
oh but i'll just watch the way you flutter for a while.
... a smile typically isn't far behind.

sleepy am i so. and as are you. pretty pretty young snapdragon.
often i drift off non-existent-like. die.
and then back to the slow... dreary pace.
left, right, left.... right.....
perhaps now i will bloom like you.
yes, you.