FRANK’S PARACHUTE

He took his parachute off

when he started saying 

what others

were afraid to say.

He fell through failure,

regret, and shame.

All his luggage

was left at home.

He had no plan

or torpedoes to damn.

The featureless water

beneath him

was all the mirror he needed

to know who he truly was: 

a parrhesiastes,

unapologetically unpopular,

unequivocally and irrevocably free.

Like a moth on fire, 

hissing and sputtering inside

its brilliant, beautiful flame.