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;

falling through the depth with arms outreached

trying to grab onto anything

anything more than the absence of screams of help

falling;

for you

is nothing less than colorful

like a rainbow slide with a green hat at the bottom

falling;

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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