by essayan hart

i shouldnt have done it. tugged that thin thread that holds me to a haunted past. nausea now, and what later….will i sleep?

over the years i have dreamt of her often, and the dreams were a comfort. contact however, feels like walking through a darkened archway. like swallowing poison.

if i am a tapestry, she is the thin blue line which separates sanity from insanity. hell from heaven. can i walk such a precarious line? should i even try?

my last fall into the lower realms left me thin and wanting. i am strong now, strong as i have ever been. i set foot on the line.  i begin my routine.

doubt is not an acrobat. doubt is the wandering rope beneath uncertain feet.  what i seek now is faith.was that my effort? to seek faith in my failures?

silence now. nothing will come of this. i shot an arrow into the dark. an arrow she will never see, where i imagine she lives. shrouded.

i dreamt once that she came too close. she was aged and broken, consumed by her own magicks. she was terrifying.

breathing in my own space now. sanctuary. swallowing the silence. i will sleep, eventually. this, like all things, will come to an end…

just one toe on a precarious line. a reminder.  steady now, steady as the rain.  i will return to my wakefulness.  i will let her be the slimmest shadow.

there are places we should never test our strength.  there are realms of unspeakable danger.

steady now. steady as the rain.