I am on the edge, and my foot is slipping.
I'm not afraid of falling.
My black hair falls into my face.
I can see the pavement beneath me.
There is a cushion.
But I'm not afraid of the impact.
Perhaps I will survive to tell the story,
Of how I fell,
And survived.
There is a cushion.
But I'm not afraid of falling.
My black hair is in my eyes.
I can't see anything.
What if I fall.
And I don't survive to tell the story.
What if I fall,
And I do.
I am on the edge, and my foot is slipping.
—
©️2018 emocheetos
I wrote these chapters previously, and published them, but I seem...distant, since I'm not saying anything, but I upload in a constant flow. So now I'm just gonna keep writing these even tho at most 6 people are reading this book.
Bye:
Alayna
