The Abyss

A poem about poverty & anxiety.

My heels on the edge.

My back to the abyss.

My heart thrums,

aware.

One push, one misstep,

and you’re down there.

At the bottom, in the cold,

trapped.

The fear freezes me;

sinking into my center,

settling into my core.

Yet there’s something unreal about it.

Maybe I already fell into the dark?

And I only imagine

I’m still aboveground.

That must be it.

That’s why I can see your backs from here

circled around the abyss.

Your hands held out to balance you

like tightrope walkers.

Your dirty heels hanging over the edge;

Gum on the bottom of your tennis shoes.

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