At the Edge

In response to Manic Mike’s poem.

At the edge of love

Is it wise for me to fall again

Or should I stay here teetering


I cannot forget the past and I’m not so sure that anyone can change, I’m not so sure that I can change…

Looking back at the safe space behind the ledge where my heart won’t get stomped on, I can forget these pure feelings, forget that I’ve seen him again

Ahead is the leap… of faith? No. Of stupid, I think, because there is no way that I matter to him…

And yet, my dreams forge ahead against my will, my imagination has run rampant over my heels with my head with the possibility of… what? Of love? Of truth?

Oh. I don’t care

I see the light behind me, but the light below draws me like a moth to its inevitable death in the flames and I jump knowing my own impending doom

but as I come ever closer to your shining beauty, your outer resplendence, ah… it is deafening, louder than the little voice telling me I shouldn’t have

I see the pavement barreling towards me and I welcome it

The ride was worth it

’twas beauty killed the beast

3 thoughts on “At the Edge”

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