Kuroi Ledge

The cool air takes me back, just for a moment, and I spend it all without realization. I have to go back. I have to go back. It's not fair. I wish that time would stop for me, just this once, but it never will, so run it off. I'm still here. I know you're waiting for me past the doorway and if it's you that's haunting me, say something. If it's you that's haunting me, just speak. I've come this far with a different map in each of my hands. They're drawn completely from memory. One takes me home, one takes me nowhere in particular. I always seem to pick the path with all the shortcuts open and the lines and the circles more steadily drawn. (I guess there's only one more way to go.) I always seem to say the things that I had promised I would leave unspoken and act surprised when they come tumbling out into the air and sounding wrong. (We've all been way too far away from home.) I never thought of what would happen if I ever found the gate closed, tethered in rusted thread and iced over blue and grey from the cold. (It's time to break off all those chains of old.) But the gate holds, allowing entrance to the wind and smaller leaves and I am stuck now, homebound. (I guess there's only one more way to go.) Can I turn back? Is it too late? Is there some place I belong? Is there any place to call a home? I guess there's only one real way to know. Is this the only way? As shallow as the water is, it swallows me. And I can't stop looking at the world around me solemnly. As we stand here in the fallen leaves, will you promise me, just promise me that no matter what the weather's like, you'll follow me? And no matter what I say, you'll take it honestly to heart? I've got a long way to go and if I do it alone I won't make it. The call of the void is coming from the balcony. "L'appel du vide." So now I let my fate take over and as I sink into the consequence below, this is how far we go. Face forward falling straight for the pavement, mouth open catching death just to taste it. Twist my body to align with the stars, this is my favorite part. This is my favorite part: suspended close to earth but very far. This is my favorite part. Once we touch the ground we forget who we are. I guess I finally had the courage to go away. The promises we made were made hollowly. Sometimes you'd reassure me we'd be okay. But you'd always leave.