It's 12am and I'm 20 feet up its 32 degrees am I brave enough?
The misty water from the falls sprinkle my face
Not a soul around just my skateboard and I to fill this space

One light illuminating the rocks below as the water dances upon them
I'm getting butterflies just thinking about cutting in
A man walks by does he know my intent?
I begin to panic, this consuming paranoia is it just in my head?

I can see my breath, is it getting colder?
I bet the water is freezing, what if I just break my shoulder?
All the scenarios are depleting my course of action and I can feel my feet back off the ledge
Maybe tonight's not the night, maybe I should sleep it off instead

I grab my skateboard and turn around
What I didn't notice was the ice on the ground
My knee buckles from under me and the concrete meets my head
I start bleeding, panicing and pleading

It's 12:07am and it's my turn to dance
In 1.6 seconds I made my way to the dance floor
I thought this is what I wanted but no, not anymore

Warm blood covers my face while the ice water fills my lungs
I should stop fighting it I should accept this is where I belong
I close my eyes and see your face
I put on a smile and meet my fate

I know I am holding on too tightly.
Afraid that if I lift my grasp,
You will slip through my fingers like sand.

A boy called bill grew up on a farm,
So bouncy, smelly and loud,
Mum shouted over "bill clean your plate, it won't do you any harm",
She gave him some new shoes to set him a test,
let's see if they can stay clean, please do try your very best,
Bill ran outside wearing his wellies so proud, happy and sleek,
Click
Clak
Click
Clak
Horses, cows all so fluffy and cute couldn't help but take a sneak peek,
Bill hopped, skipped and leaped so high,
he thought for a moment he could fly,
As he jumped over the fence to tend to the pigs, the wooden panel broke off,
Bill could see as he slowly fell down he was landing face first in pig trough,
When he collided there was dirt everywhere,
Poor little bill looked up surprised, he had it in his face and hair,
He opened the fence not daring to leap back to his mum, woke her from sleep,
Slip
Slop
Slip
Slop
He tapped on her shoulder smelly and brown,
His mother looked curiously and began to frown,
She said "bill I told you and what did I say?",
Bill said nothing, looked down stood in the doorway,
He slowly looked up and said "ok you were right"
And bill started cleaning his plate every night.

Writing down these thoughts.
These words.
Imagining your wondering eyes.
Looking over and studying my unspoken words.
The things I could never say.
Or the things you never bothered to even ask.
You see I wish you knew more about me.
Not the normal questions.
But the deep unsensored questions about life.
What kind of tea do I like?
How many creams and how many sugars?
What is my favorite genre of reading and how many books do I have?
Which do I like better, sociology or psychology?
You will never know these answers.
Because you will never ask questions like these.
These unspoken answers will never slip threw my lips.
With these beautiful. Words.

I can't explain what it's about
I'm scared to death irrationally
But reason will not rescue me
There's no fighting this anxiety
I just need to wait it out

Like the sand that slips
from tired hands and
sinks beneath my feet,
you stick between my toes,
caught in a way that
irritates me.
Until I am swept off in waves
that can rid you from my keep;
I am letting you go slowly.

Seven weeks free,
One slip, a sharp knife,
Scars for life.