It’s always such a long fall from the top

The drop seems as if it would never end

Or give some sign as to when it might release you,

To relent.

I scoff at the absurdity of it all

Yet here I am,

The end.

At the edge

I look down at the abyss below

My life is a prison term

They’re planning the rest of my life for me,

Freedom never existed.

They say they only want to help,

But that’s not the way I hear it

Art is everything to me,

Is that so selfish?

I want nothing else

This is it

Nothing’s holding me back.

As I walk closer to the ledge

The eternal fall is what I fear

But ultimately, I dread

The possibility of throwing myself off,

Permanently.

Time seems to stand still at moments like these

Sometimes I wonder,

What am I waiting for?

Nothing’s there

Get on with it,

Already.

Yet here I am

Still torn between two sides,

Ambivalent.

The lack of anything predetermines me

Either to fall or to stand still

And I wonder to myself,

Is this freedom?