Sometimes I stand on the edge, here in my mind.
I can still sense beauty, but only in grey-scale.
My hands remember the texture of skin,
while the image of your eyes are burning in mine;
...a gap once bridged.
I feel disconnected with my body -
as if there is a thin layer of still air between where I am and where I feel.
But I can breath in the light and the breeze,
and I can control my numbed extremities.
I am forced to consider the bottom..
though I cannot see it from up here.
I am terrified..
There is nothing more up here, so high.
Only memories and longings for love and sorrow.
There is no comfort here;
these pretty bubbles are still equally hollow.
so I stand naked and isolated; no coin to play.
So I'll hold my breath and begin to sway.
Back or forth..
No other way.
