Sometimes I just don’t see it—
how close to the edge I stand.
Sometimes I feel, though,
the despair,
the desperation
of being at the brink.
It’s exhausting, to say the least.
But I’ve found
the verge to be just another place
to pause,
to breathe,
to reassess
before I take a step back
and decide whether to rise
or be pushed.
This piece is written in response to the two hundredth and ninety-second edition of Fiction Monday inspired by the word prompt – BRINK hosted by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
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