I never knew why standing on a balcony was so unnerving— Why driving across a bridge, Or around a mountain with only a short railing, Made me question reality and life itself.
Tucking me in that night before you went home, When we talked for an hour about Agency and Free Will, Before you finally kissed me and left me to think in the dark: My eyes were open wide as I learned that feeling's name.
"It's like how I could scream, right now?" I asked And you nodded, "But something keeps you from doing it." "I don't want to wake up Mom," I laughed. He smiled and said, "And it would hurt my ears if you did."
Then a conversation later, after you blew a kiss You turned out the light, and I lay in the dark. I could jump out my window right now, I thought. *There's nothing physically stopping me.