• There’s a lot of ways to put this, but the way I chose fits me better so here goes.

    The edge was near
    The breeze stung my face
    The vision appeared before me
    Letting me see all of what I’ve done with my life
    Demining was the word that kept on
    Popping in my head, over and over again
    There’s not much to say about it
    The obsession, the feeling, the guilt,
    Was it all too stimulating?
    The ground was hard
    But the clouds where soft
    The trees stood proud, in their
    Green color
    No shoot to pull
    No paraglide to help
    Just me and my breeze
    When I hit the floor I made a thud sound
    It was the last thing that I remember
    I woke months later on life support
    Willingly I right my story.