Precipice

Standing on the edge of the world

I am holding on to you so tightly

That your hand starts to go blue.

Why are we doing this to ourselves?

We know we will have to jump eventually;

Into the unknown, into a new world;

We will have to go our separate ways.

I have loved you for so long

I will feel lost in the air

Where you should be walking,

But we are delaying the inevitable

Laughing before the vast openness.

And when you finally jump

My hand will hang

Like an awful noose

Until I have to go too.