::Terminal Velocity

I’m falling backward through time.  Flailing head over heels, helpless in the midnight air, clutching at the stars but hurtling earthward.  I’m coughing up fire, leaving a trail of sickening blue sparks behind me.  I’m upside down and then back again. Everything is broken.  My wings don’t work.  The ice in the wind is flaying me open, but I don’t bleed.  What am I?  Why tonight?  Why now?  I’m gritted teeth and cabled shoulders and twisting guts and tumbling through space toward the cold, cold rocks.

I’m scrabbling through music I haven’t listened to in ten years, fifteen; looking for something to stem the tide.  Frantic.  Stumbling over corners and dusty, bloodstained dropcloths and things best left forgotten.  It’s all still here, quietly packed away and waiting to be set loose.  None of it is right.  Nothing is loud enough.  Nothing is vicious enough.  I’m scraping the corners and sifting dust for that thing I haven’t wanted.  A cauterizer.   A sizzling fire.  Something to scorch off the ballast and let me float up here and gather the pieces together.  I’m not ready to hit bottom.  To crater out and be forgotten.  How did I do this before?  I didn’t expect it, didn’t see it coming, didn’t smell the beast when it stalked up behind me and sank its fangs into my ribcage and threw me off the mountaintop.  Down, down, down.  I had forgotten it was this far down.

It’s here, somewhere in this bag.  I’ll find it.  I’ll keep looking.  It will sizzle its way into me and my wings will spread out and catch the air with a pop that will jar half my ribs out of place.  I’ll scream so loud it will wake us all up. 

What were you dreaming of that was so important?  Wake up.  Look out the window.  If you see me coming – catch me.