Liminalistic

It remains so hard to then hedge,
when you live here on the edge—
live on the cusp of life and death,
separated by only a single breath.

Peering down from this height,
within a dark and endless night—
a never-ending sea of black ink,
here, not-so-safe on this brink.

This threshold between then and now,
stuck in between when and how,
…

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