we are all on the verge of collapsing into ourselves
living on a narrow shelf
overlooking a chasm of despair
air so thin breath is labored
we fight to cling to the ledge
feeling momentary panic
mixed with a guilty relief
when others tumble in
just glad it wasn’t us
being born means being on the brink of tragedy
groaning and grasping
hoping for one more moment of happy
to see us through the next thirty-seven negative experiences
“I think I was born with the glass half empty. I can’t pay attention to pain in the world or I question God,” she admitted.
“What’s so bad about that?” I said.
interview The Almighty
fill your glass a little
with that bittersweet wine
bask in the pain and find some glowing light in it
some lingering sweetness on your tongue
and let the joy bubble up
the edge is slippery and frightening
but you can’t beat the view
we are all hanging by a thread over death
yet death is just the beginning
and each thread we cling to
weaves into a tapestry of the Universe
a brilliant picture
with every hue of the rainbow
only seen from the other side
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