Untamed

My toes hang

over the edge.

Gripping.

I’m not ready to fall,

though I can feel

it’s happening.

Unsteady,

wobbling,

leaning forwards 

into the depths.

xxx

I know you are ready

to catch me.

But I don’t know if you can

handle the weight

of my fall.

The heaviness of

the burden 

as I land.

The mess I may make,

the pain that 

it brings…

For everyone…

xxx

Maybe I should just

fall alone.

Embrace the heap

of myself

when I find myself

at the bottom.

Not sure if it

can be fixed.

xxx

Should I let myself fall?

Or just jump?

Either way,

you can’t catch it all.

The mess is mine.

It’s me who should

scrape it all up.

Mould it back together

until it’s resembling

some sort of

togetherness.

xxx

But my toes are getting

closer to the edge.

One way or another,

I will lose balance.

Maybe you can’t 

catch me.

Maybe,

I have to catch myself.