High Dive Fear…

High Dive

 

Fear: you want to know

what of?

I can’t say, it’s

buried beneath ancestors,

tucked behind organs.

 

I’m digging,

I can promise that.

 

I say ‘no’ daily,

and ‘please’ and ‘don’t make me’.

 

It’s the long, endless falling

that makes me throw the wall;

your grandmother’s up-flying hand —

                I don’t want to know!

what I already do.

 

This is my cold-footed confession:

I want so dearly to flee the commitment

of marrying with truth,

standing in a bathing suit

staring at the infinity below this

ultimate high dive,

 

the last dive

all the way to the bottom,

past the point of drowning.

 

That’s what it is,

what you wish you were called upon to do,

standing envious below, hot to yell up to me

                 just jump already!

 

My feet heavy

like gold.

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About jake.forrest

Poet. Songwriter. Etc. View all posts by jake.forrest

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