At Heights, the Floor is Comfort

I remember first looking out
The window of a high rise,
And how every fiber of me
Wished to grip the floor,
To crawl about like an animal
Feeling the floor would flee
In an instant,
Leaving me sixteen floors up
With no wings to glide me down
To a soft and gentle landing.
The cars were ladybugs
Stepping down stretches,
The people mere ants,
And I was too close to the sky.

3 thoughts on “At Heights, the Floor is Comfort”

1. But you can do whatever you want in a poem. Why don’t you just…fly?

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   1. That’s definitely true. But the experience of fear for the first few times I was in a high rise was something I wanted to convey. Particularly if you have a fear of heights, it’s nearly debilitating.

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      1. I get it, I get it. In real life, I get paralyzed when faced with heights but in my poems, I’m SUPERMAN BABBBYYYY

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