The Stand

I stand at the edge of a great precipice,

Eyes closed, I can feel a hot breeze on my face,

There is no sound, other than my own breathing,

The drop into darkness feels sheer and jagged,

The plummet, long and painful, and finally fatal,

I can feel the rock edge crumble under my weight,

I am waiting for the final slip,

The hands at my sides are sweaty and white knuckled,

Tense, I’m shaking within, the terror of waiting is intolerable,

The fall has yet to come, it could happen at any moment,

Vomit inducing anticipation, my body is racked with anxiety,

I can leave freely at any time and yet…

I stand here still.