You say I’m irrational, I am rigid and still poorly
And I know i still cannot trust myself wholefully
and I consistently get it wrong... I’m sorry.
I’m balancing a tightrope that is wobbling in the wind
One I’ve been navigating for quite some time,
It takes all my effort to stay on this road, in the correct mind
And I panicked as I realised... this tightrope I balance, where does it go?
This panic this fear, how can I know?
It’s all so new, so untrodden and fresh
It’s change from the patterns that almost lead me to death.
So I know it’s important I stay upright
And I know when I balance it brings others delight
So I’m trying, Gosh I’m trying to hold my balance
But sometimes it’s windy, and I can’t keep treading along it, for merely standing still in these winds is an awful challenge.
Backward is terrifying, like a black hole that chases me
And I know I don’t want to go back there,
And that fear makes me flee.
But when I panic and rush, I take too longer strides
In an attempt to never go backwards, or get it wrong
To not be lured back to the false promises it provides
The panic, the rush, it causes me to fall
To trip on this thin wire,
I lose time to the downfall.
I couldn’t tell you what scares me more
The black hole chasing me
The fear of getting it wrong
The panic I am falling backwards
That the darkness will be life long.
Or the tightrope I tread, not knowing where it leads
Where each day I navigate a new step
And the ground wobbles underneath.
Where there is no predictability
Or routine that shows me how.
Like finding my way through the fog
And the black hole calling and causing distress anyhow.
My knees are bent to give me stability
Because there’s a storm that’s rocking the rope
I’m grabbing on with both hands right now
Trying to keep calm and afloat.
Because there is of course my other biggest fear
And that’s what keeps me going.
Is the fear that my hands slip and I loose my footing
And I completly fall off this tightrope.
My ending foregoing.
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