Slipping, I slide down the edge of cliffs into
A sea dark with hidden pasts and shame
Gasping for air.
I slipped the way a knife goes too quickly through skin,
The way a noose falls too gently around an innocent neck,
The way I need too little pressure to press the trigger.
I slipped like miscarried dreams drip from veins.
It has been almost two years since the last capital-I Incident,
Years scattered with mistakes easily hidden in the crook of a finger or
Under bracelets,
But now I run the risk of slipping below that dark water
And not being able to find my way out.