Xavier’s Haven
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Last Updated 10/31/2001

Afraid To Fly

The parachute meant simply
to break my fall
is tattered and shredded

I spin and spin
as I come down too fast
to stop before I hit the ground.

My bitter demons,
so long neglected
come to feast on
those parts I believed
vainly to be less ordinary.

I crash hard
and they reacquaint themselves
with my tender flesh
as I watch the familiar torture.

They rebuild my mangled form
fashioning a mockery
leaving various parts

I am left to watch
my poor body stumble about
searching for the remaining tatters
of my parachute.




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