Who Is Here
Why
You are here.
When
I’m on the edge of the cliff.
You give me your hand.
Never would I expect
a push rather than a pull.
I’m holding onto a twig.
You show up your face.
Never would I expect
a smile rather than a tear.
I’m falling down into a trench.
You pry open my head.
Never would I expect
a pierce rather than a fix.
I’m losing bits and pieces.
You hide under my skin.
Never would I expect
a slay rather than a knit.
Now.
I am here.
Still.
Copyright © Helen Cheng | Year Posted 2016
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