it feels so easy to let the world slip away.


old friends pass like water

through shriveled fingertips

on aching, time-shorn hands.

the evergreen forest outside brick walls

and fluorescent bathed hallways

falls away: rotted wood and broken rock

litter the path i so longed to take.


anticipation, i believe

brought about the ruin of me.

i spent so long waiting for the end of the trail

that i forgot to admire the

itty-bitty mushrooms

lining the way.


and now, those pillars of longevity

are no more than pillows

for bugs

and crawling insecurities to take.


back on track. a choice to make.

a world to leave or 

a life to ignore.


where I stand, the trail’s edge:

destruction reigns tall. yet peace is all around. a quixotic feeling

              (comforting, persistent, and yet morosely unsettling)

pervades the air.


before me, nowhere to stand:

the edge of a cliff judges my character. do I stay

              (swallowing my chances)

or jump

and risk


the fall?

This poem is about: 


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