Poetry

The Brink

A clouded mind collapsed on parapets,

Those cascading streaks of green and orange.

Thought I could straddle the heights forever.

A sun, never setting

Complete in its lustre - independant

Of all nocturnal vengeance or myth.

Perhaps this is my extenuating reversal,

I am beyond overdue by now.

Perhaps these are the talons of change

Digging in and awakening those colossal limits.

Must I spurt out old sides of me?

A punishment far foreign and futile.

I lie watching the horizon

Leaning on last night’s familiarity,

Hope and dread clinging to my lungs

As the dawn of my next year presents itself

Choking hazards and all.

I settle into my consternation,

The ill-executed leaps that could send my body

Catapulting down tunnels I swore I’d never travel.