I’m back
on that way high dive,
disoriented,
too high up that
long
long
long
long
ladder.
What made me think
I could fly?
I am helpless,
and exposed.
And Dad is not
treading calmly in the water below.
Even if he was, how could he help?
Wouldn’t we both just drown in the deep?
I can’t believe I was so impulsive
so trusting.
I’m holding up the line.
Move it, pigbitch.
I never want to feel
this out of control again.