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rachael-stainthorpePoems
There is an edge. To me. Where the lines meet the air, where I am a juxtaposition between the earth and the sky. Where I am black or white, Never grey. There is an edge, Folded in half, into quarters, into eighths, Into infinity edges are folded To fit, to puzzle, to contain A box, a boat, a decision. There is an edge, There is the stopping point, There is a long way down, A line I cannot cross A place I have dared to venture, And died a thousand times. There is an edge, And here I sit on the precipice, Here I contemplate the fall, Contemplate the sky holding the air, Sharp to the tongue, and whipped into the ears Here is the edge Where the mind and the heart, Do not cross, Multiple edges, of juxtaposition, Of falling, of dying, of breaking, Between the earth and the sky, The black and the white, The heart and the break..... There is an edge, Where I sit and contemplate, The line between life and death, The edge between safety and chaos, Between fear and bliss. There is an edge, to me, Where my edges met yours, Where lines were crossed, Where bliss met fear, Where the edges of my heart, Thawed, Where my edges met yours, Between the earth and the sky. And I'm here on this edge, And in tears I wonder why.
0
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
The edge
There is an edge. To me. Where the lines meet the air, where I am a juxtaposition between the earth and the sky. Where I am black or white, Never grey. There is an edge, Folded in half, into quarters, into eighths, Into infinity edges are folded To fit, to puzzle, to contain A box, a boat, a decision. There is an edge, There is the stopping point, There is a long way down, A line I cannot cross A place I have dared to venture, And died a thousand times. There is an edge, And here I sit on the precipice, Here I contemplate the fall, Contemplate the sky holding the air, Sharp to the tongue, and whipped into the ears Here is the edge Where the mind and the heart, Do not cross, Multiple edges, of juxtaposition, Of falling, of dying, of breaking, Between the earth and the sky, The black and the white, The heart and the break..... There is an edge, Where I sit and contemplate, The line between life and death, The edge between safety and chaos, Between fear and bliss. There is an edge, to me, Where my edges met yours, Where lines were crossed, Where bliss met fear, Where the edges of my heart, Thawed, Where my edges met yours, Between the earth and the sky. And I'm here on this edge, And in tears I wonder why.
rachael-stainthorpe
Written by
rachael-stainthorpe
English
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
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