Tightrope

I’m walking a

Fine line,

Knife edge.

A trembling tightrope

Beneath bare soles,

Each step

Precarious.

I grasp at balance,

Widespread arms,

Fingers clutching at

Emptiness.

Vertigo taunts me.

Winds are howling

Like a wolf,

And one more puff

May blow me down.

 

If I fall again,

Tumbling through

Unsympathetic air

With no safety net,

I will shatter:

My splintered heart

Scattered,

My soul severed,

My mind mutilated,

Unfixable,

Irreparable

This time.

 

Emma H, age 26, 07/03/2017

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s