Paper Doll Plays Dead

[Vikiirna]

Why is it
That I can’t become this haze
Become it, submit
To Solid skies
Liquid air  This stanza evokes a feeling I'm familiar with, somewhere between "Oh, that this too solid flesh would melt" and "If I could fly, 'neath the wing..."  I think it will start a feeling of camaraderie in kindred spirits. 

Still inside my callow lungs
My paper heart is weathered yet,  These two lines have a nice rhythm.  It's a picturesque introduction to the paper motif.
It knows all too well 
Self-imposed rancor
In a big empty world I'm wondering if "big empty" is a bit too broad a dismissal.  I'm wondering if this line contains an opportunity for a more specific scene-setting?

Of those who, 
When I look upon their face,
I find “love” in their colored pencil eyes,
And a rosy smile on their colored pencil cheeks

But I am drawn
Farther, farther away
Sailing in my paper boat
Down murky streams
For I am meant to be a paper doll I admit to feeling a little lost here. Using "I" in this line feels briefly like you are owning the intention to be a paper doll,
-but I am not  which this line contradicts..   If being a paper doll is thrust on you from the outside (which is how it feels elsewhere) can you save the"I" for only the ultimate line of this stanza?

And so my boat sinks I agree that the word "And" doesn't add much to this line, and it slightly distracts from...

And I find comfort in the much more powerful "And" here, which both surprises us with the comfort in sinking, and then reminds us of your opening statement.
Slow, seraphic sadness,
Warmth in silenced sorrow  Perhaps a period here?  To me, this line feels like the conclusion of the narrative, with the final stanza being a coda of observation.

It seems
Ink and color fades in water
-as do simple pleasantries,  Are both the pleasantries and kind words fading in the mind adrift?  If that's the proper reading, I think taking out the comma would clarify.
And kind words in a mind adrift
-decidedly

Your poem's images conjured up feelings I remember and connect to.  I think that's how poetry works.  Thank you for sharing this.