THE DROP

By: Ariana Strong

 

I was birthed in the sky.

Then I fell.

Fell right out of the sky.

 

I was constantly whirled.

I was scared. Thrown.

Thrown all around and hurled.

 

I think I was sent down to die.

I am filled with fear.

Fear. I am not ready to say goodbye.

 

I have not been alive.

No longer than thirty minutes.

Minutes before I will arrive.

 

I’ve gone through some type of barrier.

I am beginning to change.

Change into something heavier.

 

I was no longer free.

I felt the air get cold, crystalized?

Crystalized, I must be.

 

The ground grew closer.

Not ready to die, could I?

I felt myself getting grosser.

 

I knew it was time to go.

As soon as from below, someone.

Someone yelled, “Snow!”