Dangling

Dangling

Fifty thousand feet in the air.

Ripped right out of my seat.

The way it all happened was a flash.

Something changed.

You snapped and took control.

Steered us into that sheer cliff.

I don’t know what it was about today.

Everything was normal.

Breakfast was normal.

The ride was normal.

The take-off was normal.

Engine check.

And anxiety reared a few into the trip.

I knew it was over.

She flipped, I flipped.

An engine blew.

She saved us possibly in my anxiety.

So we were plummeting.

Sheer speeds.

Falling and falling.

She grabbed the controls.

Steered us in to that cliff.

I survived that day but you did not.

Now my heart dangles like I did that day.

This poem is about my worst fears translated into something that doesn't bother me. I don't fear flying. I fear drivers on the road, people I ride with and their vehicles. I had an anxiety attack while I was driving in Matthews a long time ago. It was horrible. I had to pull over to the side and call my parents. I don't know what triggered it but I channeled into this poem. Just breath and I often forget to do that, haha!