But I could build a ladder and start climbing anyways

A poem

Photo by Hubert Buratynski on Unsplash

What if death came knocking and
found me friendly to his advances?
Kissed me on the cheek until he left a bruise.
I once stood in a foreign country, overlooking a cliff
and wondering what would happen if I jumped.
I’m not saying I wanted to. I’m saying I’m
always wondering what my body would look like
laying at the bottom of a drop. What I’m trying to say is…