patchwork child

fly

i'm walking on a line
a tightrope of sorts
everyday i walk
taking step after step
i've spent my life terrified of falling
but wondering what lies below
sometimes i slip
sometimes i'm barely hanging on
my knuckles are white
my arms covered in red
maybe i can fly
maybe i should try
i could be like a bird
wouldn't that be nice
falling is nice too
the wind rushing past
the ground growing closer
it'll only hurt for a moment
then it's over