Picture this

Picture this

it is the middle of my nervous breakdown.

and I am hanging on

to a tiny little silk thread.

Feet dangling,

cold from a frigid and endless wind

far away from touching down

on promised solid ground.

I call out into the tangible nighttime

crying in vain

for something I can not concieve

And then there it is.

A breath from you

exhailed from a distant bed

where your eyes flutter wildly

in a slumber you didn't have to work for.

And all of a sudden I breathe.

not knowing how to thank you

as my feet touch the ground

moments before I lost my grip.