.... I'd just lay there and wait to fall.
I'd close my eyes so sure a thief

would steal the ground. So positive
they'd come, so confident of tumbling,

so damned one hundred per cent
certain that eventually I'd jump.

I'd build ornate shiney doors with
welcome mats and smiley faces.

I'd polish the brass and sweep
the step. Wax the wood and work

so hard, but still I'd forget
that doors are made to open.

I'd plan out golden castles, hill-top
homes with special places. Great

garden walks with lakes and hedgerow,
avenues that stretched forever,

palaces built on clouds. Then I ran
to hide inside a barbwire heart.