Skydiving

Skydiving

We all have Kodak
moments/ but when the true
Polaroid moments are
happening (mostly when
we are alone)-
The only thing left
to do is paint or
draw the story with
words.

[But that's another tale]

This is about that moment
when we are not dependent
of someone else/ (how intimate
we can be with someone else)
even
if we feel them on our
back.
Falling rapidly (fearful of
missing the drop zone and
terminal velocity.)

[This is how I fall.]

There would be screaming
but who’s here to
hear
(and times before I
have screamed at the
top of my lungs about
my fears, arms
flailing, reaching
for the cord,
or the living being
attached to me.)

These are the moments when
it doesn’t matter if
I roll my eyes or if I can
count on previous feats of
willpower. Hope.  Compassion.
The ability to overpower
fear and rage.

No matter what happens,
I have to throwaway
the myth of flying,
and pull-out of this.

(God forbid that I
cut-away at this point,
or depend on someone
else to do it
for me.)

Nothing or anyone can capture
the moment
or measure how you feel (inside)
when-
you realize “I’m
falling and I haven’t
hit the ground yet.”