Fall

A rush of wind whips past me.
I feel weightless for a moment,
but it never seems to satisfy
my devoir to feel solid ground.

Falling into God knows where,
I never seem to touch the bottom.
Never sense the relief of knowing
I'm safe where I belong.

I plunge but never feel the ground.
Why is all the pain on the way down?
It seems too masochistic to admit.
I want to hit rock bottom, just once.

The terrain is rough, I'm so close
I can see the ridges of rocks
so sharp, threatening to kill.
I almost lust for the affliction.

Let me fall to the depths of desire.
Let my actions take me where they may.
I need to feel the warmth of earth
even if it leads to a certain, unsought fate.

Which, we all know, it always does.