ah yes, there is an idea, not to fall, no not to fall.
and a drink or two, helping on the way, down
the
gullet and it is almost
half past four in the morning and i am where
i should be, busy at work, but not allways, not
not allways, sometimes so close to
falling.
too much drink and the early hours and the soul feels pain and confused again like i was for so many years.
The urge is strong and so i do it, i climb
something, not just anyting but something grandios.
th type of thing you would be proud of falling
to your death from?
what was it two weeks ago? the Cathedral of St John the divine, on the roof, looking over newyork trying to
see if the edge of the roof was a ledge or a drop?
trying not to fall,
and years before, and unhappy again. not a building but a crane. on top of the world, i hand by my hands from the
end. trying not to fall, trying not to open my hands,
looking down, so much space.
well i got down from the cranes, i got down from the
castles, the banks and buildings. sitting now
thinking back, perhaps i have not yet reached a peace with myself,
perhaps i need to remember to admit these things.
then they can move to the past as i
pass the open windows.