Two Tight Ropes

I’ve risen from the waterworks; I don’t live down there anymore.

Now, I am in the sky. We both are…sort of. You see, I’m not alone anymore. Separate tightropes, but we have each other. I traded in dry, dark isolation for the unpredictable clouds. Your tightrope is closer to the ground; you must admit it. I’m up here, inexperienced, with a thinner rope, and I have the propensity to jump. Or at least, I thought I would have.

Don’t get me wrong, it is scary for both of us. Drenched under the sun, using each other to keep balance. It is funny at first. Using each other for comfort. How can it be that I am comfortable up here? Your eyes wrap me. No longer do I hold back the waterworks; and no longer does the pressure build at the faucet. The faucet is gone.

The rest of humanity may as well be ants, but not because of the height. They are just blind to us. Small and…disposable? We have created something so large that we forget where we came from. Once the scaffolding was no longer required, we somehow grew. My face doesn’t propel visitors; it is worse than that. Our faces are unmoved by visits.

When I look down to the ground, I’m unsure if my legs could take the drop. Would my Achilles snap? Would my tibia fracture? Does the pain reach my back? Will I be able to move…?

I guess the question is, are healed wounds stronger than the fresh skin? I haven’t started again before. Are you lower down because you have less to lose or because your legs are weaker?

When I see loss, I think of losing you. When I feel lost, I think of you. I whisper your name to myself as I keep pushing forward. Your face is my support.

I reach my hand down to keep you up, keeping us afloat. Sometimes, maybe, I lift you to my height. I’m sorry for that, truly. You didn’t ask for this, but neither did I. You don’t argue with a smile and you don’t dismiss our addictive visions. 

I have another question. As time goes on, do our tightropes get closer to the ground or not? Is it that we build things up here? Houses, jobs, a pillar…harnesses, all up here? Is that how we keep balance?

Is that how we never fall?

Bring on the fucking rain. Torrentous, please. Add in some wind, hecklers and frayed rope. We don’t care. We have something stronger than all of that shit.

Cheers