If You Think You Can Fly
Poem
At this height
the attempt to tempt fate
and take flight is
tempting,
but once you’re descending
it’s too late to think twice.
I feel like
spreading my wings
and giving in to limitlessness
as I shiver with bitter cold
like a little lost child’s lip
Isn’t this bliss,
I’m on a roof top with rain in my face.
Wait!
Is this it?
I wanted to find at least some scraps of insight.
I pull my jacket zip tight,
as I look at my wrist I see it’s four forty three
and it’s dawning on me
that I’ve been up here
since
midnight.
At this height
the attempt to tempt fate
and take flight is
tempting,
but once you’re descending
it’s too late to think twice.
There’s no
rewind,
if my life is ending it won’t be
this night.
It’s like
I’m in a fist fight
with a room of pissed up midwives
with big grins
doing sick things
to victims
with six inch knives.
I’m
scared to tell my own girlfriend
that I feel weak inside,
so I stare right through her eyes
and decide to keep quiet.
As she sleeps tight
I stand
and stare down
at street lights.
At this height the attempt to tempt fate
and take flight is
tempting,
but once you’re descending
it’s too late to think twice.
It’s nice,
as I make my way down
the rain clouds disperse.
It still hurts
but feels better
now my head is down
with her’s.
I’m one person,
carrying the heavy weight
of a great burden.
Same depraved
rhyme surgeon
with deranged mind
whirring.
I
find disturbing words in my brain,
circling again.
TV merges,
turning into blurred verses
of strange nervous
faint murmurs.
As day emerges
from behind beige curtains,
I hear sound words
“If you think you can fly
try taking off from the ground first.”
more by LUCAS HOWARD
photograph by Leeroy
