The Fall
​
What is this feeling called again?

Often it presents a heavy heart,
Weighing down every flick on the wrist.
That describes some of it. 

Some have told me that it is an inkling, 
Something terrible is bound to happen. 

Life is going too well right now.

At any second the fabric of my safety net is going to disintegrate beneath me. 

That my perch on this building is gonna be tested with a precisely mistimed shove. 

That maybe this time I won't catch myself. 
Maybe I'll just let myself fall.
See how long until I reach the bottom. 
Counting seconds I guess, but I mean who is going to judge that.
Maybe I'll land on a balcony. 

And the owner will patch me up send me back on my climb 
with a warning’ not to be so reckless.
Maybe I won't feel the pavement.