Saturday, January 20, 2018

Lines in the Sand

I struggle,
I struggle with toeing the line that I've been given.

I walk right up to the edge of the cliff,
And I want look over
I imagine myself jumping
Falling, falling, falling.

Every minute that passes by
Was it time wasted?
Could I have done more?

An itch, a need to feel
Feel something, feel anything
The heights of pleasure
Or the sharpness of pain
As long as it's not nothing.

As long as I'm not numb.

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