I wasn’t certain about much 
three years ago
I was spreading my freshly developed wings
jumping off anything remotely high
puffing out my chest with every landing

I knew who I thought I was
the rest of the world did not concern me
I was certain I could make it work in my accord

I was certain that certainty was not a concern for me
so ready to fly

I’ve kept my head above water since then
swimming in the waves Icarus died in

every now and then I catch a glimpse 
from a heightened view

every once in a while
my wings will spread

but they are asking me to jump from higher cliffs now
and I cannot tell if the water will save me

still young enough for confidence
now old enough to fear