Sliding.
Slowly.
Down, down, down.
"Help me!" I scream to the crowd.
They stand all around, but I am alone.
The crevice gets deeper, and ever steeper.
"Do you not see this?" I screech to the crowd,
"That all my world is crashing down?"
I grasp the rope, that is reality,
my skin burns, and aches with frailty.
Falling.
Down.
Again.
For the thousandth time.
The darkness encloses.
I walk out again.
"We missed you!" says the crowd, "where have you been?"
My skin cracks from the tears as I say nothing,
I smile, I say nothing.
The keepers of the rope bandage my hands,
loving scolding,
loving embraces.
Maybe tomorrow the hole won't find me.
Maybe one day the rope won't hold me.
Some day this world won't hold me.