On a painfully thin edge,
and trying desperately not to fall.
Constantly swaying, constantly breaking, and rebuilding, and reconvincing that just jumping isn’t the right thing.
that’s what I want to do.
that’s what weighs me, the notion of letting go and jumping. It pulls everything out of me,
but I hold myself back and stand on the edge constantly, constantly looking down at “freedom.”
I want to cry for myself.
Accumulating salt builds in the back of my throat, but I am relentless in swallowing it back down. In some way, I think, that is supposed to save me.
Yet as I do this, I kick pebbles over the edge behind my back,
and hopefully something will give way.
Hopefully I will break. Hopefully I will end, and it will all come naturally.
I will forget myself and become as the phoenix.