Everything is happening all at once and I cant seem to grab a ledge to stop my fall.
My finger tips just barely grace the small outcroppings like a tease of a possible stop to my body falling closer than I ever thought to the hard ground. My skin gets ripped with each and every scrape against the rocks around me like battle scars from the long fall.
Everything is happening around me as I tumble further from the solid ground that was all I used to know. Words surround me like a blanket of needles that pierce my skin in a constant reminder of vague meanings and failed attempts.
And when I reach out, a hundred hands are there to catch me but I cant seem to grab onto a single one of them. They are just out of my reach, teasing me. Like a glass of water to a wanderer in the desert.
It seems that so many people are falling with me.
People that I love and then I become one of those unreachable hands that made such an effort but could never save them. I reach out in a desperate attempt to grab them, but I never do.
We just fall.
YOU ARE READING
Falling Up
PoetryA collection of poems about me falling in the wrong direction, and me falling in love with the wrong person.
