Dreams of a Quick Fall

You turn to darkness to find light,
committing to a chute,
a descent into night.
Dreams of a quick fall
stretch into forever,
proving even death
can take its time.

You rush toward the end,
but rip yourself open on the way down.
The pain goes unnoticed,
your skin left somewhere behind.

The boy who numbed himself with fire—
he succeeded,
but never felt the flames.
The irony: the devil
no longer wanted him.
Nothing left to take.
Nothing heaven could hold.

So you remain,
caught in this middle ground,
where nothing is given,
and nothing survives to take.
Earthbound.
For now.