Crazy Leap of Faith

By Ryk McIntyre

You know the sound a strait-jacket makes
when the safety-straps slip?
That was our first kiss.
We knew it'd be crazy, knew the risk -

to get involved like this,
we'd have to disagree to agree
with the voices in our heads
that sentence us to solitary,
and do something really crazy,
like...not listen to them!
Set ourselves loose enough
to measure the space
it takes to live happy,
with one last leap of faith.

Fortunately, you've got good strong legs
for jumping, and I'm pretty sure
my brain is a helicopter.

Too many people zone themselves off
for their own protection.
Building lives according to blueprints for misery,
becoming monuments to Alone,
when they don't have to be.
There is always somewhere beyond
our tenuously held borders,
where rooftops reach out, like
the same promise the sky gives to fledglings:

"You can go anywhere you want,
all you have to do is trust
in something you can't see our touch,
and jump. It only sounds difficult
if you get weighed down
in whether it's possible."

We've both had some bad falls;
there's no shame there.
So even after I take the leap, you're scared,
still stuck back there
on your rooftop, saying,
"I love you, but I don't dare.
I can't get hurt again.
You better go on without me..."
And I say, "Baby!
I'd be crazy to leave you. And
I'm crazy now. If I go,
two crazies will cancel each other out,
I would be sane, and
If I end up sane?
I'll! - Go! - Crazy!
I've got a better idea -
I've got a flashlight in my pocket,
a joke I stole from a Batman comic,
I studied physics
by watching Bugs Bunny cartoons -
This can work:

I'm going to turn the flashlight on,
and place it at the roof's edge,
don't you see?
...you can just walk across on the light beam!

And you say,
"Whoa!!! I may be crazy,
but I'm not stupid!
...you'll just turn the flashlight off
when I'm halfway there..."

No. Baby,
I may be crazy,
but it's not bad-crazy, and
the healthiest diagnosis I ever got
was I have you.
Love isn't a cure in itself,
but it can be our invisible friend -
it's got soft walls to bounce off,
it's out best medicine.
With love you can jump buildings.

Today, standing here, maybe we are
twenty-five cents short of a dime,
but we are fully invested in this

crazy leap of faith called "us."
Haven't our dreams fallen short long enough?
I understand - you need to hear
the word "promise."

I promise. .

If the jump scares you,
because the distance wears you down,
like the meds,
borrow my whirly-bird brain and fly across,
that way you'll know I'm fully committed, too.
Give up if you have to,
I won't give up on you.
I won't let you fall,
not when a whole new city is possible for us.
And if the bad-crazy is coming to town,
fuck it - get on the bus.

Trust me. Jump.

I'll catch you - why do you think
straitjackets have such long sleeves?
You won't believe the view,
once you get over your fear.
I swear...

you can see our house from here.


Previously published in Open Mic Review, Volume 3: 2007