I've been hanging off
A ledge, a cliff
And if the aching hole
Beneath my dangling feet
Is waiting to devour me
Toes first then

Why do my fingers curl
Around slippery words,
Promises that are only
Tangible in dreams where
I don't wake up falling into
An abyss, or screaming at the
Rain, or curled up into a ball
Beneath a tattered bridge?

Tattered like every word
I wrenched out of my
Throat, my lungs, my heart
To hand to you


After all,
What's a little vertigo?