Tuesday, April 07, 2015

Circular Arguments NaPoWriMo #10

No Way to Go But….
Something old I can’t quite hold
Sends me over the edge instantly
The insanity caused by this one jot
This one tittle in the middle
A sharp pin prick jab that
makes me so very mad
it has years of momentum behind it
I put on the brakes and wait
To find a toe hold
Barely balancing on that assent
I climb up and up
Clinging to each craggy crevice
That my fingers have worn smooth
And my flesh bleeds
Digging in, holding on for dear life
Lest I fall further down
bruised, beaten, and bereft once more
You see me fall
Your rope is attached
And we both plummet
Down grasping for the wall
For an anchor or branch
To cling waiting for rescue
Until one of us begins to climb again
In terror of the ways down
Desiring to see what is up there
That we so desperately climb towards
We’ve seen the bottom
We know the rocks
They are painted with our blood
With our tears and fears over many years
There is now only up

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