Slipping

woke up on the edge

of the cliff

unsteady feet

sliding on the loose gravel path

leading no where

I know that I

could

should

call for help

but my voice is hoarse

from disuse

only capable of

inaudible croaking

even if I could

calling for help

would mean admitting

that I have fallen in the hole

and cannot get up on my own

I know that I

could

should

reach out a hand

but my arms wrapped around

myself in a death grip

is all that is keeping me

from flying apart

I am slowly

painfully

sliding backwards

inch by inch

into the abyss

wondering why it is so hard

even now when the stakes are high

to say the word out loud

LOSS

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

16 thoughts on “Slipping

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