because it's there

just because
it's there is
not a good enough
reason to hear
anymore
when you
see the climber
hauling
gear, rope
on his shoulder,
spikes
in his shoes
towards the cliff
and snow covered
peak.
what's missing
inside
of you, that you
are trying
to fill?
how high do you
need to go,
or drop to feel
alive?
how close to death
do you need
to be to have
your itch
scratched
sufficiently?
you ask all of this
as you look
both ways before
crossing
and stepping
gingerly off
the curb.