Someone once asked me,
if one day I chose not to live anymore,
and I decided to jump off a cliff
would I prefer to be facing the sky?
Falling hundreds of feet
to my certain death,
not certain exactly when
it will all end,
just knowing it does.
Or
would I rather fall face down?
Seeing everything pass by,
getting closer and closer to my impending doom
knowing exactly when it's
all going to just stop.
Well, I answered,
if I were to play bird for a day
I wouldn't jump off a cliff, no,
I'd much rather jump out
of a hot air balloon.
With a spliff in one hand
and a flask in the other,
I'd float above the clouds and,
after I got too high to
see my mother's face
or too drunk
to hear my father's laugh
I'd jump.
Face down into a world
where phrases like
"slut"and " bitch"
are considered terms of endearment
and fag isn't just a word for a cigarette anymore.
Where, children still believe in santa clause
and love still feels like magic,
the good and the bad,
I'd want to see it all.
Watching everything float by me
wondering about where I'll go
after I land
getting curiouser and curiouser
like I fell down the rabbit hole.
I'd want to go face down
because the world always turned its
back on me,
and I wouldn't want to die a hypocrite
so I'd lay there,
eyes wide open
waiting for the darkness to
swallow me whole,
waiting for him to
undress my sorrows
and whisper sweet somethings
into my soul
as if I were beautiful,
as if I weren't scarred,
as if I wasn't a fallen angel.
I'd fall facedown,
thankful for all the things I've seen
and sorry for all the things I haven't
I'd fly forwards,
kissing the stars for the last time
and singing the sun my last goodbye
I'd fall wondering,
wondering if , when i'm gone,
if I'll remember
the smell of the ocean,
or how beautiful the trees are,
or the warmth of my little brother's smile,
or if it will even matter.