I am on the border
And I do not know
How to stop myself
I am trying with all that I can,
Everything I am
To not step into the empty land
But I think I am too already far gone.
In fact, I don’t even know where I am.
Being on the edge is far worse than falling
Helplessly down the hill,
Because at least when I have already fallen,
I know where I am going;
I am not floating,
But actually moving
Into a solidified direction.
On the edge I am chained;
Torn between two polarizing states of being.
I have no choice,
Though I so desperately want to control that choice.
But I simply do not — I cannot.
The choice is not mine for the making,
And as the days pass,
The closer my toes get to touching the dirty, crumbled line
That eternity naturally marks as the finish line of reality.
I take a breath;
I stop fighting,
And allow myself to seamlessly fly
The white ribbon splits in half.
Email Mïa Zendejas Rivera: Mia.firstname.lastname@example.org