I jumped! 

I thought I had a 

cushion

I thought I had a

soft landing.

Was that why, was it

was that why

I jumped?

I jumped!

I landed

somewhat

somewhere

softly

bump, bump, bump

a slow

halt!

A drink, a sip

I find myself

intoxicated!

The world of oz, oh, oh my

everything is not green

but red, and black, and blue all over.

Things move

differently,

queerly,

slowly.

When you’re drunk you hang on to 

every

single 

detail.

That watch! 

You find yourself looking at the

big hand, tick tick, tick tick.

How long have you been

watching

that

hand

tick

tick

tick?

The conversation goes along

quite naturally

in the background

and you answer

some question

not directed at you.

Your inner monologue laps over 

the natural

order of

things.

“She said this, and that, and this and

haha! haha! ha!”

You laugh too, but

you’re thinking

up

all up

in your head.

The painting up in the corner

of the devil

laughing

and

you could be asleep

you guess.

You might be 

dozing off

a bit.

I jumped!

And it’s easy to think

that falling is easy

in places like this.

Where time moves

differently!

softer!

slowly!

And decisions are masked with

the sweet smell of

aftershave.

But falling is falling

I suppose

Mmm, I suppose

falling is falling

no matter if you’re pushed

or you jump.

Falling is falling

no matter how soft the landing.

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