I have climbed as high as you have but started on a hole
Now my brain is slack, unrhythmic in this ever widening edge
In every spin I clap up against fear
I see the hard edges in all I love
And hate them for it
I abandoned the needful in my illness
Trying to press their own hands together
To return them to a journey alone
As I fell behind
And where are my succoring hands
In this spreading edge who dares cross
I press my hands together and pray
And begin the climb again


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