The damn concrete left a streak on my Vans. I was falling now, but I could still notice the scrape from this Nosedive angle. What will the coroner think When he spots the scuff on my sneaker? “No wonder why he did it.” If I wasn’t so focused on leaving a good impression On this Earth I would reach up and wipe it clean. No. Instead I will brace my face, Stick to the plan when I land: A smirk as if to say, “No big deal. Nothing to see here”. I can’t wait. The cracks are visible now And the people scatter And I matter.