This Side of the Abyss

Stand on the edge of a cliff,
The sheer edge inviting before you,
Plant your feet firmly on the ground,
Bend forward, just slightly, at the waist,
And look down.

The sudden impulse to jump
Grabs your hand and jerks you forward
You stop yourself just before you tumble
Down into the unforgiving canyon below
You tremble and shiver like a quaking leaf
About to detach from the branch
And fall to the ground below
To shrivel and dry

Close your eyes and see the same
Or, as it seems, almost the same
A delicate balance on the precipice,
That part is the same, and yet
The canyon of the waking world
Does not pulse and bite at your ankles
Does not seem so deep as to never end
Is not as much a part of you as a limb

Yet the impulse remains, with a threat
That reverberates off of invisible walls;
Step back and lose where you are,
Who you are and what you have worked for,
Or step forward and fall.

Going over would be easy
Especially now, as teeth clang around in your jaw
Your skin crawls like there’s something beneath it,
Like it doesn’t fit,
Like it’s not even yours,
Eyes wide and bloodshot as you bend
Ever so slightly, just at the waist,
And look down.

The darkness below gapes like an embrace,
Ready to envelop the willing
And hold them
And never let them go
It’s the warmest, most frightening thing
On this side of the abyss.

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