Flying Blind
Project info

Switzerland, clinging to a mountain ledge.
My fingers saved me -
I broke a few on the painful descent.
Death appeared on the rockface
Like an ancient painting, suggesting Just Let Go.
My back ached to arch into the Alpine air,
It would be a sweet flight...
But I didn't want to die.
I had muscle, now I have some more.
And a secret: I survived.
I am strong, not unlike some others.

text by Rebecca Collins