In waist deep and sinking;
Diving in so quickly;
Leaping without looking,
Believing that I can fly;
Seemingly fearless, a lie;
Hoping not to cry,
And that my feet never touch
The bitter reality of earth,
While I free fall, sailing
On the heights of love,
Maybe something else;
But I won’t know
Until it is too late,
Until I am too far gone,
And my heart is his,
And my reality is owned,
Controlled, dependent on a man;
No one knows
If I shall bleed or soar,
Live or die;
And I place my existence
In hands that always fail me,
Hands too weak to carry
The heavy load of my emotions,
Hope!
©2014 – V. A. Coote