Standing on the edge looking down
Into the abyss of possibility
I tremble with fright
And grow weary from the fight
To persist despite it all.
Looking up I see your face
Feelings writhe inside.
But it’s like a knotted shoelace
With each attempt to unravel
Making it tighter and tighter
And I’m not the fighter you think I am.
I want to lean in, and see what it might
Be like to do the wrong thing that feels so right
And to know the sweet release,
The only true peace.
But I’m a gentleman.
So I won’t lean in to kiss those lips,
I’ll tighten my grip, and keep my head down
Staring at the possibilities as I walk along the edge.