the chips

if they were to fall
would I have the energy to run around
arms outstretched
fingers reaching
hands grasping
trying to catch them all before they shatter upon reaching the ground

is my reality so fragile that it cant take a little trip
my truth so easily cracked, fractured

I fell hard one night
right out of the top bunk of an old wooden bunk bed
everyone swears I was still asleep right until my mouth hit the hardwood floors
my lip bursting open upon impact
teeth aching, face pulsing, tears streaming
a couple tylenol, a wet rag, ziplock bag of ice and a night in my parents' bed later I was back in the top bunk again
secured in place by an extra wooden board to hold my rough-sleeping self in

as I scour the aparment courtyard for a branch long enough to widdle into a safety rail I wonder
if theres a tree branch thick enough
a box of nails long enough
a deep sleep calm enough
to hold my life into place

but as a means to what end
my truth is what makes me
my love, what carries me through each day
and without these things I
am just one more...

noise-making, resource stealing
uncaring, unforgiving, unknown
waster of time, depleater of space, user of people, places, and things
except I have a choice today

and as I look up and notice the tiny specs hurling down toward me
deep breathe
sit back
relax.

theyve already started to fall
I choose to let them fall as they may