hiding in clear view

sometimes when i am most confused i come here to hide. words surround me and i am not so afraid. but it doesn't make sense to hide in plain sight. i have no elven cloak, the things i wish seem distant, farther from me now than ever.

yesterday i deleted a poem i was writing, i don't do that, because i believe everything is worth something. but i want to come to a new place in my work. make a new sound. yet all that i hear is bellows of agony. still. sometimes i find laughter, but last night i couldn't shake the darkness and wanted to let myself fall in to it.

so i sat on the precipice edge and dangled my feet.

there's a line from a gallway kinnel poem that speaks to me, it reads:

i, who so often used to wish to float free
of earth, now with all my being want to stay,

when do we come to that place, how does it happen, when the precipice is not our desire, but avoiding it?

before, i felt driven to throw myself in. destined.

not so anymore, now, i'm just sitting beside this gaping hole that would devour me if i let it. and last night, i wasn't sure if i'd let it. i am tired of fighting. tired of forcing my legs to keep extending, shifting the weight of my body to the other leg. in tai chi it is called filling and emptying the glass.

i'm tired of filling and emptying the glass.

but not moving forward holds no hope. the idea of waiting has become wearisome to me as well. and i'm not sure what to do.

so here i am. hiding in clear view. wondering what will come and when.

to my chair then, in the corner. a place familiar where i can sort some of this out.