No Control

This feeling isn’t new.
It’s like a skydiver has taken my heart as a parachute.
Free falling.
My heart holding on as it folds into itself,
Against the pressure of the wind and the view,
The ground growing closer,
Dots becoming shapes,
Shades of green and brown
Turning into backyards and farms.
When is the cord going to be pulled?
When is the relief going to come?
So that I know that my heart
Isn’t going to go splat on the sidewalk
Next to the promises that I made to myself.
I wear my heart on my sleeve,
Not in a romantic kind of way,
But in a truth kind of way,
In a goodness kind of way.
And yet, here I am again,
Losing the ground beneath my feet,
Air getting lost on the way to my lungs,
All because I trusted myself,
To squish down the feelings that are
Fighting a civil war in my chest.
I promised I wasn’t going to allow a person to be my trigger,
But what can I do if I gave them the bullet?