And I'm walking too close to traffic again.
Performing a tight rope act along the white line.
Clutching a balancing pole triple my wingspan.
Caught between chaotic turbulence and moral serenity.
Vehicular slaughter to my left pulses with life and a promise.
A promise of apathy, implosion, corrosion, and erosion.
The cars whip the air into a frenzy as they zoom past.
Buffeted from gust to gust my balance wavers and I feel it.
That dormant inclination towards self-destruction awakening.
And like a cat caught on a cable, exhausted and scared, I want to leap.
**** the consequences just to end the uncertainty, the stress.
But the people on the sidewalk.
Some grab hold of the balancing bar offering it stability against the gale.
And somehow I find a way to hold on.