We'll See

entry is free, the exit; we’ll see. it wouldn’t be any different if there weren’t a ninth floor to jump from. it wouldn’t be any different if I had somewhere to walk without my feet bleeding. it wouldn’t be any different if I could cry, if I could think. it wouldn’t be any different if I could write without stopping; until my fingers ached, until my soul trembled, until I had nowhere left to put the words I don’t know how to say, the sentences I don’t know how to build. would it have been any different? if we hadn’t hit our heads against the wall, if we hadn’t fallen with no safety net, if it had just been one argument, one slammed door, one misplaced word? and I know it was more than that, but could it really have been any other way? it wasn’t any other way, and there’s no use in verse or diversion, no use in not knowing how to cry. from the heights of my early twenties, I knew there was nowhere to fall if the net wasn’t there. from the heights of the ninth floor, there was no way to fall but into the void. and from the fogged-up street, from the rain-soaked pavement, what’s left is the painful fall of someone who once knew how to walk through traffic with eyes shut, without breathing. keep my innocence for yourself, and all the arrogance of my being. entry is free, the exit, we'll see. entry is free, the exit, we'll see. entry is free, the exit...