I always fall too hard.
And here I am sitting in a crater
wondering if I’ll ever be able to climb out.
Not that I want to.
Falling can be scary,
but landing is worse.
The impact,
the realization that it’s too late to turn back.
This fall will bruise me,
like so many before it.
This time I brought a parachute
To soften the landing.
The parachute was her smile,
her hair, her lips.
I find my parachute in the way she loves,
laughs, and lives.
Leaving the crater will hurt more than the landing did.
I’ll leave when I’m forced out by someone better.
Outside of my crater are her tears
Drowning anything that tries to leave.
I don’t want to leave the crater.
I’m in too deep anyways.
Someone might bring a rope to take me out,
only to drop me off another cliff.
Crater Bound
I like your prose style. You work an image well. Welcome to PostPoems - Lady A -
Thank you :)
Thank you :)