The Tree

I wear my memories and mistakes,
Like a cape to shield me from repeating them,
Constantly guarded in knowing I'm here
Out on a limb,
Feeling and swaying in the wind, aware that at
any moment I could fall,
And fall hard and fast,
And that my shield couldn't,
nor would it, last,
Could I use it to glide from this haunted place,
I wouldn't hesitate, 
But I knew that for that,
It had long been too late,
So alas I'll remain here on my weakening limb,
And try not to think of him,
And I could call down the rain,
to wash away memories of him,
Along with the bitterness and scars from my soul,
And I would be able to leap from this tree and just let go,
To answer fate's call,
To just let myself -again- fall,
To move forward in life without fret,
With ease, grace and no regret.