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Steve Page Sep 2017
On
My tightrope stretched across the void.
Unimaginable pain on one side;
a new uncharted land on the other.
Balancing anger, pain, loss and a sack of regrets,
I concentrated on the next step and no further.
With no sense of what may lay beyond,
I went on.
Carrying loss. Fearing change. Carrying on nevertheless.
Meg Howell Feb 2017
Love and practicality
A ladder leading into a tumbling dryer
Dangerous and blurred

Flowers with roots to hidden caves,
Caves known as the "heart and soul,”
Which we keep hidden

A tightripe balanced over the sea,
Inescapable and thrilling
Baylie Allison Sep 2016
Thump Thump.
Butterflies crawl in my chest.
Thoughts swirl around in my head.
I can’t focus or see straight.
This is anxiety.

And it’s not something I
talk about often, though it’s
more common than one might
think, where my heart pounds so
loud and anxious
thoughts threaten to
drown out everything
that makes me,
Me.

You see, my brain sees simple
things incorrectly.
Texts and sometimes the
thought of leaving the
house sends
adrenaline coursing through my
system like
a thousand shots of caffeine
into my bloodstream.
The logical parts of me fled on the
first flight out of town,
leaving me to feel the tremors and
full force tsunami
on the ground.

Anxiety is a lot like love,
but it’s a battle not a dance.
A lifetime, not five minutes.
Unlike love, it’s often violent.
But just like love, it’s quite silent.

Anxiety feels like hunger, but stronger.
Like fear, but it lasts longer.
Writing this poem has quelled the
qualms that anxiety often spells.

I wish that I could be honest
about this part of me. But it's
one of those things you’re trained
not to talk about from a young age.
Because unless you’re depressed,
medicated, or heaven forbid
you’re not seeing a therapist,
then it’s not bad enough to qualify.
It’s not big enough to report.
I’m not suffering enough.

But if you could just feel
my heart beating fast.
If you could interpret the swell
of my tell-tale blush.
If you could whisk your fingers
through all of my thoughts.
If you could only
hear all of the things I’m feeling
but can’t quite express.
Then you would know that my
silence is telling.
I may be smiling, but currently I’m
fighting for sanity in my own mind.
The mind I feel is no longer mine.
I’m walking a dangerous
tightrope *****.
My mind is a minefield of poisonous
butterflies.
They threaten to swallow me alive, so
I tread the violence quietly.

I fear when I expose you to this
side of me, you’ll only see anxiety
or that maybe I’m lying.
But anxiety is not me.
I am more than mixed up brain signals.

The rest of me is cardigans in the summer,
because it’s cold inside.
I am mock converse and ponytails and
words on paper,
thoughts poured out,
slowly.

I just feel anxious
Sometimes.
More than normal, actually.
But I’m dealing with it.
And I’m no less me.
MJ May 2016
A line is stretched across a chasm.
Beneath me is all black.
The line is bright and shining,
And there is no looking back.

One foot in front of the other
Is just the way to win.
Any variation,
And you might risk falling in.

"Set your eyes on the other side."
"We'll keep the door from locking."
Well, that's just fine and dandy,
If you want to keep on walking.

Heavy rain is falling down,
Making my foot slip.
I put extra care in every step,
But it makes for a longer trip.

Now the winds will start to blow.
The worst winds of its kind.
Threatening to push me off,
Forming doubts inside my mind.

Now the whispers, rising up
From the chasm, they crawl out.
Telling me terrible, saddening things
That reinforce my doubt.

The wind, the rain, and the whispers.
They chill me to the bone.
I take one last look at the dimming horizon,
And I leap into the darkness below.
Eriko Mar 2016
dear to the dreamers
acquaintances to their
wallowing burning light
rummaging inside the pockets
sewn with the webs
of memories thought
to be dead and gone
yet time melts into
the streaming glare
of setting sun,
and these things
never truly bleed away
stuck between the
fear of heights
the bad and the ****** up
walk across the tightrope
you know you have
done it before
Florence Maude Aug 2015
Maybe I could walk a tightrope
Even when the strings all broke
And maybe I wouldnt fall
And maybe I didn't have to lose it all

Maybe I didn't have to dive so deep
Deeper than six feet
Maybe then someone could hear my screams
Maybe this time someone will save me

Maybe I'll learn to escape
As everything escalates
Maybe I can save my self
For I can't see anyone else

Maybe I'll wake up anew
With the sky so blue
And all the grays I've ever known
Fading away
For the sunshine is here to stay

But for now I'll walk my tightrope
As all the other strings break
But I'll do whatever it takes
To walk my way
Nameless Jul 2015
Like walking on a tightrope
Thinner than grass
There's no nets below
Better save my ***
Keep your head up high and don't look down

I look

All i see are frowns
There frowning at me
Why are they frowning at me?
What did i do?
I've  been through so much, I think i'm almost there
But the tightrope it stretches
I'll keep walking, but its not fair

The people below want me to end my life
They say "I'm not worth it" "Why go through this strife?"
Death is not the answer
Not for me anyways

So I'll keep walking this tightrope
No matter how far
I'll make it, you'll see
*Just watch me.
Make them suffer, fall in love
Words dripping with emotion
You're the singer....alchemist
Words and Music are your potion
Make them cry, laugh, and sing
Make them react to every line
Stir the *** some....Alchemist
On a tightrope made of rhyme

One chance is all you get
Working without a net
No one will hear you fall
You're tightrope is made of words
On stage at the Bluebird
You've only one chance...that's all

Write your thoughts out, share your dreams
Do it in three four time
Put it to music, bring them along
On your musical tightrope line
Go out and sell yourself, nightly
And make them feel what is inside
Remember, you're up on a tightrope
And each night, is a completely new ride

One chance is all you get
Working without a net
No one will hear you fall
You're tightrope is made of words
On stage at the Bluebird
You've only one chance...that's all


There's no support but words and music
At the Bluebird, you're on your own
Make them a part of you, do the best you can do
Make them all family, sing to them each...alone
Don't forget don't look down, just focus on the light
Come on now, Alchemist, stir the *** some more
Make them all cry again, make them remember when
Sing from the tightrope and they'll fall in love once more

One chance is all you get
Working without a net
No one will hear you fall
You're tightrope is made of words
On stage at the Bluebird
You've only one chance...that's all
LJ Chaplin Apr 2015
I won't let you fall

From those treacherous wires,

Just please don't look down.
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