It’s always such a long fall from the top
The drop seems as if it would never end
Or give some sign as to when it might release you,
I scoff at the absurdity of it all
Yet here I am,
At the edge
I look down at the abyss below
My life is a prison term
They’re planning the rest of my life for me,
Freedom never existed.
They say they only want to help,
But that’s not the way I hear it
Art is everything to me,
Is that so selfish?
I want nothing else
This is it
Nothing’s holding me back.
As I walk closer to the ledge
The eternal fall is what I fear
But ultimately, I dread
The possibility of throwing myself off,
Time seems to stand still at moments like these
Sometimes I wonder,
What am I waiting for?
Get on with it,
Yet here I am
Still torn between two sides,
The lack of anything predetermines me
Either to fall or to stand still
And I wonder to myself,
Is this freedom?