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Mar 2013
Spiraling down
now
out of control.

Into the darkness
looming below.

Glimpses of starlight,
sunshine,
and gold.

Moments of life
and purpose
arose.

Gave me the strength
to carry on.
Found me a singer
to my life's song.

These times of perfetion,
so well played out,
in sync with the worthless,
thoughts of doubt.

Is this what it's like?
Is that what it could be?
Or am I meant to sit here
left out and dreary?

Climbing the staircase,
taking my time.
Counting them each,
as they arise.

Coming undone
'cause these steps lead nowhere.
I need fresh air,
breathing in failure.

Can this opportunity even compare?
I'm walking,
but barely,
across thin air.

The railing's gone,
no safety net.
I'm life's cruel joke,
a burnt out cigarette.

Trying to move on,
having regrets.
But all new beginnings
start with an end.
Experimental Habits
Written by
Experimental Habits
  923
   Ann Beaver, August, Effie and JM
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