I am tired.
It’s true. I didn’t think it possible.
I have been here far too long.
I have always danced to my own tune.
Now I realize, I only played the fiddler’s
tune.
I have toed the line.
It used to be figurative. Now my toe is
sore.
I have lived on the edge, flourished
even.
The adrenaline rush, the flaring nostrils,
thin films of sweat on the brow.
The tingling in the extremities.
What a fool I have been!
Mistaking fear for daring – cowardice for
rebellion.
It’s time.
I cannot toe anymore, can’t stay on the
edge any longer.
How stupid I have been!
Thinking I could play this game, never realizing when I got soft, never understanding the sinister grins. Never
believing that it was over. Left alone on the chessboard, dancing alone in the
dark.
I need to jump.
To take that leap.
The leap that either kills me or births me.
Catapulting me higher or sinking me deeper.
Why did I believe the lies?
That to live on the edge was the epitome of
living.
I slowly ease away, turn my back on the
edge…
It’s not that I am now scared, no, now I
see!
I realize it isn’t the place for me.
I am too familiar with it.
I walk in search of a virgin edge. An
unadulterated edge.
One without the tormenting voices, one
where there shall be no hesitation, no blurred vision.
I walk…
Straight off the ledge.
i could read this over and over...and over again. nice. didn't know u write so good:)
ReplyDelete:) eh, even me i didn't know...(i've just read it for the first time). you should cram it and maybe recite it next time you're here lol
ReplyDelete