Soaring Or Falling in Writings

On a ledge like the verge to nowhere, looking at the gaping distance in between soaring and falling.. Anticipating the crash and burn that will surely find me in the end, but knowing full well the sting of that pain only makes the fear much more vivid inside of me. How it is to be between both good and bad, to rejoice, and to taste sin on my lips.. Is he just a masked man, hiding in shadows and corners becoming whichever shape that moment might need him be, the chameleon changing colors.. But to be deceived by such a thing…, yet knowing what it was before the new beginning ever began, but there was that first kiss, that first moment, and it seemed to cause amnesia to my mind..

You cannot forget the sting of pain, but you can seem to forget the cause? With tiny increments between that I feel I am no longer blind to the madness, a few words and one kiss seem to tame the beast of rage within me, that is not only dying to release itself, but knows it has every right, but let me speak on a timid tongue, because for some reason I fear to push another to the edge, with it’s advantages and disadvantages.. I still have to much of a heart on my behalf, to allow my own self to be the one to break it.

Last updated June 12, 2017