we can talk ourselves roundabout
this isn't going to go anywhere;
for every push and pull put
precariously close to the edge,
there's a hope that one day
you might make up your mind;

and so, i hold close to the rope you've thrown
hoping that either you will reel me in
or let go altogether;
sitting suspended while still slightly
sympathetic to these senseless sea changes
like schoolchildren chasing each other back and
forth from synapse to synapse;
this playground holds a slow-motion swingset
that i am

oh

so
close to falling off of;

i'll hang on as long as i can,
but i won't be surprised when
i walk away with broken bones.

06/26/2007

Author's Note: hmm... i don\'t know if i executed this correctly.

Posted on 06/27/2007
Copyright © 2026 Andrew S Adams