THE CLIFF IS MY TWENTIES

upon the cliff, i verge 

on the brink of both

excellence and insanity 

death and divinity 

with every possibility

laid out before me 

the cobalt blue cloth 

of late-teen uncertainty 

the thirst for identity

does not make me greedy

and what will i become

at the end of this calamity 

at the bottom of the cliff

myself, but a cavity

i wonder how it feels 

to stop resisting gravity 

but most of all i wonder;

will they remember me?