My days consist of
an Acrobats walk
along this black hole
within my chest.
Balancing among the rubble
within my heart.
Stumbling into its blackness to drown.
But climbing out
to walk along the edges again.
A little further away from the edge each time.
My grief a balancing act.
One where
During the day I circle
the edge of the darkness.
But at night
I fall into the darkness.
Only to resurface again in the morning.