Tight Rope

The circus is a happy place. No mind given to the peculiar animal aroma, no fear in all of the abnormal walking, flopping, or cartwheeling around, or the funny people wearing too many colors at once with big tomato noses, all included the circus is a happy place. A little girl with little Debbie pastry curls, cotton candy blushed cheeks, and awe all over her person foresees the moment everyone has been waiting for. She knew what was to come but the awe all over her person thought otherwise cause Momma put her in awe. Everytime. Momma was an acrobat with webbed feet.. She stumbled to the ladder and put her hands to the stepping bars ready to lift her burdens up up up all while she readied herself to give up up up. She made her way across never-ending string to promise-less platforms, so she made her way nowhere. From the ground, or, somewhere grounded her daughter watched as Momma climbed up the pits of her barbed-wire burdens like a newborn warrior Every time. Momma as pretty as a freak show but never let the freak show went nowhere but up and got nowhere but through the pits of her lifted burdens even if her feet couldn't keep her grounded anywhere she just went everywhere else. Momma's baby girl watched her defy her own self. Everytime. Momma went beyond and all the way back again.. Almost everytime. Momma got to the promise-less platform, and steadied herself, but no matter how she balanced she couldn't always find balance throughout the imbalance of her burdens and webbed feet. Every show she made impossibilities out of her footsteps and miracles of her steadiness, and steadily... Oh so steadily she drew the crowds in deceit and awe. Everyday she tread in deceit til the show she professed her defeat in the tricky swing of her feet. She made her way to a whole other side so I guess chickens crossed the road and momma walked the rope for the same reasons, drawing her surrender on a hellish page I couldn't be seen in, momma walked whole but fell to her pieces, pieced apart whatever she just couldn't come to peace with. Everyday she was dying. She was giving up.. Up.. Up.. Momma looked to the grounded people, then looked to her baby girl, and blew her a kiss with cotton candy pink lips, the same shade as baby girl's cheeks. Cotton candy pink would be the only color baby girl sees fill the sky when she looked up up up, she'll remember when momma came down down down. Everytime. Momma came undone, feet and all, as she walked the undone noose of a nuisance and left behind her the future of her baby girl to wallow in the hallow of sorry sorrows as she sword swallowed the salt water rivers tainting her cotton candy cheeks. She'll remember when Momma let her see the moment that they have all been waiting for.. One last time. As she made it before another promise-less platform Momma gave up..up...up