list your fears.

strike heights

from the column

and replace

with truth:

the fear of falling—


in love.

the way words

fall from your lips,

from your fingertips,


the way hair falls

like water down
 your back

as she
 brushes it away

to let hands fall

on your back.

your eyes fall

to the ground

because fear of falling

makes us fall


close the gap,

let the words fall,

fill the space

with all that tumbles

into the abyss—

tears on cheeks,

laughter behind teeth,

questions of mind,

hopes from a wooden heart.


we all fall.




but from some

great falls,


she couldn’t put you

together again.

so here you are,

at the edge,

grasping at empty spaces

and how far
away you can be.


fear of heights.

but you are looking at her,

and you aren’t afraid
 of leaping

until the rush,

the between and beyond
 of air around you,

air leaving lungs.


remember your real fear:

the fear of falling.

the way you fall alone,

the way you have time
 to wonder

how much it will hurt to hit
 the bottom.


the way she is

and could not
 save you

because she is not falling,


This poem is about: 


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