Flying Wheels

First attempt of manipulating syllables and meter. Also the first attempt at a longer-ish poem. Note: this event is mostly fictional. Though some of it isn't. =)
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I sat on the tailgate
Strapped on my skates and pads
Rolled gracefully
Up to the tall gray ramps.

I turned and gathered speed
Flew up a small tabletop
Bump bump
Over and into the air.

I looked at the half-pipe
No finish yet, plain wood
Nails protrude
From the surface--sharp points.

I climbed to the platform
Looked over the ramps edge
Really high
Not the first trip, still, scary.

Guys nodded at me--go
Skates over the coping
I'm nervous
I leaned slightly to much

And went sliding--face first
Shocked--my brain felt wiggly
Sharp nails
Blood--skin torn off my face.

I laughed dazedly
Guys slid down from the top
Dude, dude
They said, are you okay?

How many fingers are
we holding up right now?
Four hands
Fingers, fingers--thirteen.

You're fine, they said--relieved
Get back on the coping
Back up
Before you get scared again.

I stood up--wobbly legs
Again? I wasn't scared before
You were, yea
You hesitated, you

Got stiff as you went down
You didn't flow--you got scared
Back up
Before you get scared again.

I climbed back to the top
Don't wait, they said, go quick
I went
I went fast--didn't fall.

Good, said the guys up top
Now go wipe the blood off
The ramp
No way, I said as I

Opened my Vanilla
Coke--That's not happening.