Friday, March 7, 2014

at the brink

they said, open the door again
I said, why
when there's a three hundred foot drop

they said, feel
the cool breeze and the warm
sun on your skin
I said, why
are you not listening to me

they said, take that risk, feel that rush, open up
I said, why
do you not see the bruises and the cuts

or are your eyes just as closed
as your own slamming doors

don't tell me to fall
when you mutilate my wings.