I am a stupid girl.
Self-preservation not a strong point.
Running like mad toward the edge of a cliff
Convinced that flying can happen.
And even if it's just a long fall
What a rush that last step will be
Blood pumping, hair blowing
wind on my skin and roaring in my ears.
So what if the river below is dry as a bone this time?
Broken and bleeding and twisted on rocks
is fine if I land on my back
so looking up the sheer cliff face
at the sky, the edge, the trees
perhaps I'll see a flock of birds, clouds,
maybe a lone eagle.
Then, truthfully, I'll be able to say
"For a moment, I joined you."