Out into what?
They call it falling in love
Because before you know it
You've slipped up,
Your feet aren't where they were
The dirt that held you
Becomes wet grass
Becomes sharp rock
Becomes nothing.
And this nothing
Gets smaller and smaller
Until it's something.
A big something.
And the impact
Knocks you loose.
Knocks a lot loose.
You're a little broken but
You're alive and
Fighting.
And that boulder
Rolls.
Closer.
And closer.
And you're broken.
And it's closer.
And you're still broken, but fighting.
Fighting doesn't fix you.
You're broken.
And it collides.
You're trapped.
Your legs and one arm are
Under this
Massive weight. Maybe a ton.
And there are some rocks that
Might be sharp enough.
And the space where your
Knee used to be
Well, it isn't.
And there's nothing where
You'd tattooed your arm.
Briefly, you hear your thoughts--
"What a waste of ink."
But there's no pain.
No, because to feel it
Would kill you, surely.
Whether of shock
Or from giving up.
And your one free arm,
Scrabbles across the ground
And your neck is twisted weird,
And you can't see.
And you're not sure if you
Can hear, either.
And you feel mosquitoes bite
But can't slap them.
And you cut your finger on
A sharp slice of granite,
Or limestone,
Or whatever the hell
And you reach out for it.
No, it was just
A fucking scorpion.
You swat
And you feel your whole--
Well, your half body move.
But no pain.
Maybe, you think
You hope
Your brain got hit so hard
You forgot what it felt like
To wither in agony.
But you can only take hold
Of a rounded rock.
Just big enough, thank god
And you try to twist, but
Your back is jagged
So you blindly rear back.
And that moment
Where you decide between
Resting here in this painless
Shock
For eternity,
Or at least, your eternity
Numb and
Adrenalized
And missing all those
Pesky breakables--
A little more perfect than you were
Or your alternative,
Slamming that rock down
And again
And again
Feeling the bones crumble and
Shatter and splinter and
Shoot off into this
Dirt-covered hellhole
And feeling the muscles
Tense and contract
And tearing nerves apart
Strand by strand
And thanking every god you've
Ever joked about
That you can't feel a damn thing
And you slam down again
And again
And you repeat this
For arms you kept out of
Fires and hot coffee
For ages.
And now what, you'll just
Throw them off
Into a lake
And move on?
That moment between
Accepting the end of
All things, everywhere, for all of
Your numb forever,
Or the return to
Sharp, penetrating reality
Of ketchup stains and
Hospital bills--
That moment of choice
End, beginning.
Death, life.
Torture, torment.
Heaven, earth.
That's what it's like,
Falling in love.
Because, they tell me
You'll always fall out it.
And I ask
Out into what?