Facing the Void

This piece begins where the old self ends—on the cliff’s edge, staring into nothing, with only one thing left to do: jump. It’s about meeting the void with love; the precise moment when fuck it becomes faith and you discover that freedom isn’t about landing, but about never needing to.

What happens
when there’s nowhere left to run,
When the path ends
And the ridge cliffs out,
When you’re cornered
and the only way is to leap,
After fuck it
but before fuck you?

What do you call it
When your reach exceeds your grasp,
You go for the horizon
and it extends,
You aim for the infinite
knowing there’s nowhere to land,
Betting everything on a miracle?

When you fall through the bottom,
And the sky opens up
because you have faced your depths,
When you’re no longer bound
by coping, reactivity and trauma,
When you’re reaching with full effort,
holding nothing back,
saving nothing for later,
not resisting the fall.

When you have more energy
than it takes to get there,
Or you’re already there
but keep going,
When the fall never ends
And you accept that
the path emerges
only after you take the step.

When fear loses its gravity,
When armor no longer weighs you down,
When you let others carry you,
When discipline rises to meet your dream,
When devotion answers to the emptiness,
When care is the only signal that needs broadcasting.

When every moment starts with choice,
When your standards are high enough
and you live up to them,
When love doesn’t need a destination,
When you hear the echo of your joy,
When friction is only a memory.

What do you call it?
We’ll find out,
But, my dear friend,
it sure as hell ain’t

FALLIN

G.