A 180 isn't a Trick

I've stood at the edge of this world.
Did a head stand, twirling on one hand, hoping to
fall
wherever was safe,
in blankets and empty bottles.
Hollowed out by last nights
and last nights
and tonight and
believe me when I tell you
going to those lengths
took the strength of 5 men and I

can barely count myself as one of them.

See going that far was hard.
It took discipline like a disciple
in search for reason in a pill,
like a
still painting never noticed,
like
walking without feet.
It was groundless.
It took refuge in my soul and let me know
every time I woke up that
there was always a way to give up.
Take one more for yesterday,
and 3 more for tonight,
follow this chemical diet,
this castration of the mind,
find

nothing.
But missing pieces

Always leaving space in a picture
I could erase with another step closer.
With 4 thoughtless hours of closure, inching right back to the edge,
to the painful oasis,
slip right back into abstract patterns,
connect dots between razor memories and laughter and hope that
this next time
I can actually accept the things that I've been through.

I gave up acrobatics.
I no longer look back in that direction.
See, I wouldn't call me a quitter, I just simply ran
quicker to the other side of my mind.
Rested on realistic dreams that seem
real for the first time.
And I might look back,
fall back,
end back at the edge but for now-
I like where I'm at.

I feel safe.