The Edge

Guest Post by Jennifer L. Oliver

I’m tired of walking along the edge. I want to jump in and see if it’s warm and comforting or if it’s cold and suffocating; if I’ll swim or if I’ll drown.

I’m tired of walking along the edge. Only seeing a glass surface, not knowing what’s below; seeing the mirror of myself warp with ripples running through.

I’m tired of walking along the edge. Having my bare feet scraped and scarred by the broken shells and glass; damage and residue left behind by those before me.

I’m tired of walking along the edge. I want to lie down and rest, feel peace and laugh. But I must stay guarded ever listening, watching, protecting myself from the possibilities.

I’m tired of walking along the edge. There should be flowers and trees, animals drinking, kids playing. But I have kept it all away, harboring here as if it was my own.

I’m tired of walking along the edge. Maybe its time for me to go.

This piece first appeared in Jennifer L. Oliver’s Blog, World Beneath the Evening Star, on May 14, 2011.

Thanks, Jenn!

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