The Parachute

The earth moved and pushed a precipice up towards the heavens
and for a moment I thought I was blessed. I was wrong.
Anyone on a precipice will find it is precarious I fell.
Down through the air, a feather made of lead.
Fast I fell but could not land. I was bewildered.
And all the while your Cheshire smile sung of my descent.

Down I fell through levels and layers of broken glass.
Down I fell through rains of tears I’d cried months ago.
Down I fell through my own memories I passed.
Boughs and tree limbs stuck out to whip me but none that I could grasp.

Smoke rose and covered me choking me and hurting my eyes. In it went and devoured my insides slowly blackening everything it touched, making my internal function useless. I could not speak.
Something jerked my shoulders violently, jerking my body upright, it hurt more than anything thus far that I had felt. A buoyancy to slow my descent but nothing that I wanted. A parachute.

Silken threads of hope I do not trust to hold me
Silken threads of hope I’m sure will break
Silken threads of a hope that only you and I see
They are straining and slowing my descent I want to cut them lose and set myself free

This parachute was opened far too low, I know the ground I’ll crash into. I see it and relish in its impact but I cannot have it yet. It embarrasses me that people watching me saw me so high for so little time and that they see my rapid descent. More it embarrasses me that they see me flailing above waiting for the plunge. There is more decency and dignity in crashing than there is in this.

I want it over and done so I can start to heal but now all I have is this tearing ripping descent on winds not of my own making and this is the hardest pill for me to swallow. It tears at me like salt swallowed all in one gulp, it poisons me from the inside out. But I smile up to you to reassure you. It’s ok, darling it is fine. Darling I love you and I’m here if you are mine.