on the edge.

they stood,

feet perpetually close to the verge,

their fingers interlaced

gazing out into the open space,

they wondered where they’re going to go next.

 

the boy,

with more dreams than she did

saw the sea and thought;

let’s explore.

he wanted to float across the ocean,

accepting wherever it took him;

he wanted to see the world.

 

but she,

with more scars than he could ever imagine,

saw the sea and asked how deep she could go,

and at which point would she run out of air,

so she could make plans to go 10 metres deeper.

she wanted to be embraced by the black void,

a palpable feeling for once,

rather than the one in her head.

 

with their feet on the edge

he was ready to sail,

while she was ready to sink.

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