Today, I am the feeling of falling, the
jolt of the unrealised last step
on the staircase.
I

Feel myself sliding
down a sheer cliff
face,   and turning
my face away from
all   of the       hand
holds and foot hold
s that could      save
me the fall.

Below me is the river, the one
you see in films, where the
crocodiles snap and scream and
the waves are shrieking too,
where the jagged, toothed rocks are reaching
up with their barbed fingers,
they pierce the air with vows to catch the fallen
and the hero can't hold on
for much longer.

But even though i try to shape these words into the silhouette of my descent, they only seem a shallow, shadow-shape i cannot make cement; and shadows cannot beat a heart with violent fear and fierce torment as my heart beats.