have you ever
stood before that
towering waterfall and
felt the spray
drizzle your sunscreened
arms as they
hang over the
metal railing? have
you ever sat
in the window
seat of an
early morning flight
and looked outside
after liftoff, seen
the largest apartment
buildings and offices
reduced to toys
on a child's
carpeted bedroom floor?
have you ever
looked down into
that canyon and
known how deep
it really is,
seen the river
wind its way
through the valley,
known exactly where
you fit in
the world of
stone, wood, and
effortlessly flowing water?
i remember that night, new
year's day, a couple hours
after the ball dropped. i
remember lying in my bed
with you, you pulling me
in for a kiss when
you saw that the year
had changed over. i remember
the feeling of a metal
coil squeezing my chest, of
acid bubbling in the back
of my throat, of hands
scraping and clawing at the
back of my skull. i
remember being down there in
the dark, trying to sleep
next to you with glinting
eyes lurking all around. i
remember the way you asked
me if i was okay
in that concerned tone, the
way i lied to you
and said that i was
fine, the way you made
it clear that you didn't
believe me, even as you
accepted it. i remember the
way the dam broke and
sent me sobbing into your
arms: slowly, then all at
once.