Balancing Act

 

 

Seething anger twisting, twisted, twister

of half believed half truths heard somewhere.

 

Dreamt maybe? Maybe seen on a homepage,

so it must be true, right? You wouldn’t lie.

 

Searching, grasping, grasped, gasping,

the surface still too far above.

 

A scream, primal, rising, surfacing,

caught writhing, strangled at birth.

 

Carry on, the razors edge sharp and unforgiving,

balance, neither side enticing, centered.

 

Sharp focus dulled decisions,

others whispering which way to jump.

 

 

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