I sit on the sharp edge of the present
Fine line separating future and past
My legs dangling into the past
Preventing me from living the current moment
Dwelling on wrong choices made
Words I did not mean to say
Friends and family I lost
Each lonely thought grips me and drags me further into the canyon of memory
I am barely holding onto this cliff with my fingertips
How do I pull myself back up?
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 9:41 AM UTC
I sit on the sharp edge of the present
Fine line separating future and past
My legs dangling into the past
Preventing me from living the current moment
Dwelling on wrong choices made
Words I did not mean to say
Friends and family I lost
Each lonely thought grips me and drags me further into the canyon of memory
I am barely holding onto this cliff with my fingertips
How do I pull myself back up?
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