I fall from grace every second.
A long fall with nothing but wind between my hair, yet no splat.
No end, just eternal falling.
Sometimes it's not even a fall.
It's a cage, so small that I have to crawl just to let my limbs stretch every now and then.
My neck held by a noose so tight, I can barely breathe.
A nauseating feeling that doesn't go away, Death would be a mercy when you feel like this.
But then, it's gone.
The fall
The cage
All gone.
And I never knew where it came from to begin with.
