up high.

Each climb requires a descend,
but all I desire is to fly,
wasting away high up in the sky.

dripping down melancholy
as I soar through clouds

embracing false evolutionary instinct
as the wind pummels against my eyes.

Even with the agony of sleet
breathlessness
rain-soaked skin

I’d rather never land
and instead keep drifting through
these stratocumulus clouds.

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