At the Precipice

Fear gripping me
Afraid to breathe
Afraid not to
What if I fail

What if you don’t
A voice whispers

I’m afraid I whisper
Faintly it replies
I know you are

I might fall
You might soar
Higher than all

Others will laugh
Then laugh with them

They won’t notice
Then be invisible

That’s nonsense
So is fear

Who are you
I ask out loud

Says the voice

Challenging it I say
How do you know me

It replies confidently
I am you

Wild Thing ©2016

Written for Prompt #2.1
Writing Rebelsm


8 thoughts on “At the Precipice

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