On the Edge

What is there

to keep me

from being pushed

over the edge?

What is there

that stops me

from falling

from this height?

It is

no person

no friend of mine

but what I do

in passing time.

It is the thousands

of lives I’ve lived

between two covers

of books I’ve read.

And it’s the way words sound

when all lined up

and the way art looks

once it’s done

and while it’s being made.

It’s what I do

that keeps me sane

no person could do that

there’s no one to blame.

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