Something I Wrote

I can hear my breath beg me to stand at the very edge of a cliff daring all the years of erosion to finally crumble what saves me from the high velovity madness painted scenery of jagged rocks below.

 To materialize the weightlessness I dream about, the weightlessness I want so badly into reality.

 And for a beautiful moment, I can reach out to touch the blistering heat of the lemon drop sun. My last thought? The morbid turned freedom worry I asked for; a law. See, as Newton would fathom, what goes skyward must surely crash.