I went 

To the 

Tallest tower

In the city.

And

I 

Stood

On the roof

And leaned

Over the edge.

I felt

The wind 

In my hair,

The light 

On my face,

The railing,

Cold under my fingertips.

I stood,

With a

Strange sense

Of power,

Standing over

Ordinary people,

Doing ordinary things,

Living ordinary lives,

Oblivious to my

Watching.

I wondered

What it would

Be like

To 

Jump.

Would I be

Free,

Weightless,

And light, 

Flying like a bird?

Would it feel

Good?

Or would I be 

Scared, 

And fall like a stone,

My limbs 

Heavy,

My heart

Empty.

Would it

Hurt?

Would it hurt

When I fell,

As I hit

The ground?

Or would it 

Feel like

Nothing at all?

When I 

Jumped,

I didn’t feel

Anything at all.

It didn’t 

Hurt.

It didn’t 

Feel

Good. 

When I 

Hit the ground,

I wasn’t in pain,

But I wasn’t

Numb.

Because

I didn’t 

Jump.

I just stood there,

The wind 

In my hair,

The light

On my face, 

The railing,

Cold under my fingertips.

I stood, 

With a 

Strange sense

Of longing,

Standing above

Ordinary people,

Doing ordinary things,

Living ordinary lives,

Oblivious to my watching.

I leaned

Over the edge,

Wondering,

Did they ever

Get the urge to jump?

And I stood there,

As the only thing 

Keeping me from stepping off,

From feeling 

Free, 

Weightless,

Light as a feather,

Or 

Heavy as a stone,

My limbs 

Heavy,

My heart 

Empty,

Was my will.

I went 

To the

Tallest tower

In the city,

And I

Didn’t

Jump.