First written March 2018
My heart’s been torn,
Broken again and again and again.
I fear one more will tear it in two,
And yet I take another step out to the ledge.
I draw near to the edge.
Once again I look down,
Not knowing how far it goes.
And still I stand there,
Trusting in the fall.
But I know if I felt your hand in mine,
Then surely I would fly.
Would that space in between us
Be more than something to be bridged.
A distance of words and understanding,
Made greater by my own shortcomings.
And even with the fear,
I find myself hoping at the edge.
More than the fear,
I wonder if hope is more dangerous.
And still, I reach out my hand,
Hoping that in the end I will fly.
The Writer in White 