The Jump

Someone once asked me, if one day I chose not to live anymore, and I decided to jump off a cliff would I prefer to be facing the sky? Falling hundreds of feet to my certain death, not certain exactly when it will all end, just knowing it does. Or would I rather fall face down? Seeing everything pass by, getting closer and closer to my impending doom knowing exactly when it's all going to just stop. Well, I answered, if I were to play bird for a day I wouldn't jump off a cliff, no, I'd much rather jump out of a hot air balloon. With a spliff in one hand and a flask in the other, I'd float above the clouds and, after I got too high to see my mother's face or too drunk to hear my father's laugh I'd jump. Face down into a world where phrases like "slut"and " bitch" are considered terms of endearment and fag isn't just a word for a cigarette anymore. Where, children still believe in santa clause and love still feels like magic, the good and the bad, I'd want to see it all. Watching everything float by me wondering about where I'll go after I land getting curiouser and curiouser like I fell down the rabbit hole. I'd want to go face down because the world always turned its back on me, and I wouldn't want to die a hypocrite so I'd lay there, eyes wide open waiting for the darkness to swallow me whole, waiting for him to undress my sorrows and whisper sweet somethings into my soul as if I were beautiful, as if I weren't scarred, as if I wasn't a fallen angel. I'd fall facedown, thankful for all the things I've seen and sorry for all the things I haven't I'd fly forwards, kissing the stars for the last time and singing the sun my last goodbye I'd fall wondering, wondering if , when i'm gone, if I'll remember the smell of the ocean, or how beautiful the trees are, or the warmth of my little brother's smile, or if it will even matter.