on fear

Don’t give me a ladder,

for I will refuse to climb it,

but as for falling,

I will do that any chance I get.

Photo by Ksenia Chernaya from Pexels

What is Love?

Baby, don’t hurt me.

On the edge of a cliff
I stand,
head bowed,
hands clasping
the wrought iron form
of my heart,
not wanting to drop it
but needing to let it fall.

I don’t look
down below.
I don’t dare
try to ascertain
who might catch it
or whether
there is anyone
to catch it at all.

I simply loosen my grasp
and allow it to tumble
from fumbling fingertips
into the unknown.

Photo by Anna Urlapova from Pexels