I wanted to run,
to run towards the edge of tomorrow,
and hang myself.

Like a tree hung from
the edge of a cliff
with its roots
gripped to rocks and dirt,

does,

 

falling bit by bit,

 

yet suspended
by a thread of faith.

 

 

 

I wanted to run,
to run towards the precipice of the future,
and levitate

Until I found equilibrium.
Until I found equilibrium,

In the present me.

But I was not a tree,
I was not a tree born on the edge of tomorrow.
I was merely the present me

 

 

Who kept falling bit by bit

 

 

like grains on sand
in an hourglass

 

 

falling bit by bit
Just like the present me
Already suspended in equilibrium
by a thread of faith

 

yet still falling bit by bit

 

to create the past me.

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