Feet on the edge of a cliff,
hanging, hanging,
just one more push Mr. Wind.

Yet sweaty hands
cling, cling,
to unseen twigs,

not willing,
not willing,
to dive, deep, deep,
into the pit of love.
I have always been

brave, blunt, honest,
but I cannot leap,
else I’ll be a mess.

I am scared, afraid
to fall… for I know you will 

not catch me.

r. c. gonzales – roy | page 13 of Poems for S
Sharing with you some excerpts of my upcoming book, Poems for S!
Pre-order available here: .

Mockup for Facebook image_v2

©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

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