For The People Up High

yesterday it felt like i was thrown into reality without the bumpers and safety net.  no sound checks or dress rehearsals.  no mentor, no Virgil.  i look straight up and i see the scars in the sky.  from all the jumbo jets and the people up high.  and a kid like me is so far away we can't even be seen.  and yet i strangely have rescue on the forefront of my mind. it's better than the muscle and everyday grind.

and i see everyone else going so fast, gliding right over those short, deep gaps in the plan.  but i'm moving so slowly, i'm an easy victim, i fall right in them.  on the way down it's not my life that flashes before me, it's yours.  and you're screaming at me to just land, to hit the bottom like man.  and the bottom is something that can't be seen from the surface.  it's cavernous and chilly, and i walk around like i may find my way out.  dig in, and climb the walls - at any angle, with no security.

instead i carve out the side, crawl in a ball, and plant myself inside.
the rain can't flood me out, the faces can't call my name.
and it's all the same as it had been before,
and i'll come out when i'm good and ready.

once my wounds heal up and i can comfortably stand on two feet.  i had gotten so accustomed to giving in and taking it all. so for now i'll just sit here while i work myself out, and hopefully not into deeper trouble where i won't get myself out before summer.  i'll shed the layer of plaster and grit, and watch i'll wind up jumping out of this pit.