Falling

It’s not a fear of heights. And it’s not so much a fear of falling. It’s a fear of landing. Hard. It I had wings, you wouldn’t see me on the ground.

Kind of like the leaves in fall. Beautiful. Then they fall. And they get walked all over. And for some people, the crunchier the better.

I’m not afraid of falling in love. I’m afraid of the crash landing and being walked on. Give me wings before asking me to jump. Don’t make me into a fiery-red leaf only to fall alone. Cutoff and drying up.

Want me to fall? You first.