Straddling

Straddling light and darkness
One minute here
The next minute there
Confusion reigns
With an iron, aberrant whip
Right hand feeds the left
The past reborn
Within next breathe
If the past
Becomes present
What shall the future hold?
Right hand held out
Waiting to receive
Oncoming blow
*
To take one step
Forward
Would be to
Acknowledge the last
Decades
Of decadent steps
That have led me
To this point
*
I don't stand
At the precipice
I am the abyss
*
I am the vast
Seeming
Emptiness filled
With
All
Previously
Unseen
*
Oh, how I wish that one could understand the precarious predicament that I currently face.
Seems like a riddle, yet it is all too clear.
Processing...
No one can answer this...but me
*
At any second...my life will drastically change. Forgive me for trying to stand far back from the railing, arms crossed and hand rubbing chin.
*
It could be the best of times
It could be the worst of times
Change in a package without a bow
*
When words fail me, as they forever do, my mind switches back to its primal, visual program and how I feel, what I'm thinking, pops up in pictures, brief visions. Write the visions and the picture forms.
*
Clarity is either the bitch I hate or the one I take to bed
*
I'm in a funny, precarious place. Things hanging by strings await me with scissor in hand to collect them, they, the hanging things I cast away so long ago. They can't hurt me anymore, doesn't mean I want them in my pocket.
Do they bite? Or sting? I won't know unless I decide to touch them. I fear burning fingertips and lips aglow.

Good lord, is shit getting real
My journey, my path, my steps
Step back
I got this