Breath

I'm holding onto the edge. 

Gripping with all I can muster. 

Every emotion I have goes into my hands

Just so I can hold on a little longer. 

I can't see the bottom, 

And I'm afraid of falling. 

But I know what is down there,

And my name it is calling.

I can't help but panic, 

Struggle like a helpless dog. 

But everything I do only makes it worse, 

And I can't continue for long.

One of my hands slips, 

And for some reason I can't lift it back up. 

And I find some clarity, 

And decide I've done enough. 

And so I breath…

And let go.

I let my Mom read all of these poems before anyone else, and she helps me edit them and come up with ideas for titles. She suggested “The Edge”, “Slipping”, and “Clarity”. I did end up going with my original idea of “Breath”, but I wanted to acknowledge her and all she does to support me. Love you Mom!