Jeopardy

I daydream of railroad tracks and rope,

kicking my feet against metal beams, 

until my legs learn a danger waltz.

Dance to a soundtrack of buzzers

and daily double clues.

I can name all my fears for 100 points, Alex.

Yet, I show up for trap door affairs

and free fall Mondays

because both cast me as the damsel

with a distressed sense of self worth.

I understand trivial survival

when I sign my name with an ax.

My mind places me in a box full of water

then tells me to learn to swim,

and I gasp out my plans

between each dunk 

instead of a siren cry for help.

Wrap me in caution tape

because I am the greatest danger to myself.