RDP Monday: Brink

 I’ve slid to the brink

I’ve skated on the brink

I’ve grabbed the brink with both hands and held on until my fingers bled

and sometimes I’ve let go

and sailed all the way down

to the place where the earth meets the sky

and the Moon never rises

and the sun never sets

and I can pretend that it’s the wind I hear

crying.

It’s only the wind, I tell myself.