Streets Of My Face Poem by alex haywood

Racing from the tunnel
to the surface streets of my face
the tightness in my chest
signals the dangers of faith
like falling out of a plane
with a kite on your back
wrestling the wind against your cheek
trying to ignore the madness of it all
hating and loving the ride
eyes watering all the way down
while rushing to the ground
trusting the kite
will break the fall
emotions vulnerable, raw
dreading the impact
having felt bones break
before the last taking
of a risk so great
listening to loud rock
driving in this race
my breath deep and fast
the tightness spreading
feeling naked to the wind
on the streets of my face