Poetry · Writing

hunting the bottom of the pit

i am not a seer

a witch or a god

but i knew i’d be here


falling through the depth with arms outreached

trying to grab onto anything

anything more than the absence of screams of help


for you

is nothing less than colorful

like a rainbow slide with a green hat at the bottom


i don’t want to stop

i worked tirelessly to fall this long and hard

and flying feels like walking over cement

until falling with you

the bottom never comes

not sure it exist

and i love it

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