It Will Have to Wait (A Poem)

standing on the edge

I saw him
standing at the edge,
Peering over

I sat down next to him,
He didn’t seem to notice
For a long while.

He stood motionless,
As if debating something
Or contemplating something,
Or calculating something.

“Do you know how deep the abyss is?”
I asked, when finally
He blinked his eyes.

He looked at me,
in wonder.
what I was doing there,
Sitting on the edge.

“It’s deep,” he said.
“Deep enough that if a person fell in
They could never get out.”

“What’s in there?” I asked.
He looked at me again.
Wondering why.
Why I asked,
Why I cared,
Why I was there.

He took a long breath.
“I don’t know. All I can see is darkness.”

I stood up, next to him.
“Let’s go.” I said, quietly,
Taking his hand in mine.
Willing him away from the edge.

But he held fast.
To my hand,
To the edge.
He hadn’t made up his mind.

I lifted my gaze,
To meet his beautiful eyes
Full of sadness, and fear.

But the sun was in my eyes,
It was on my face
It made me glow,
I am pretty sure.

I reached across him
With my free hand.
I touched his face.
I wiped the solitary tear from his cheek.

I stood on my tippy tippy toes,
And kissed him.
“Let’s go.” I said
Seeing through him.
Seeing through his despair,
Through his anger
Through his loneliness
Through his worthlessness.

He looked at me again.
His beautiful eyes softened.
He reached across me
And wiped the solitary tear from my cheek.

Then he held my free hand with his free hand.
We stood, there on the edge,
Facing his demons.
I wasn’t sure
If he would pull me in,
Or I would pull him out.

“Today is not the day.” He said.
And we walked away,
In a single breath
In a single consciousness.

The abyss would have to wait to claim him.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Google Images

34 responses to “It Will Have to Wait (A Poem)

    • LOK! To be honest not sure who it was about. Or where it came from. But it’s always been my problem with him. I know his demons. I’ve met them face to face and they’re ugly. I guess it’s him. I’ve been unable to get him off the edge anyway. I just have to let him battle them on his own. Takes too much out of me and never accomplished anything.

        • Yes. A lot of what I write is about him. And you’re not incorrect in your perception. Honestly, it’s the only way to get the thoughts out of my head at the moment, is to put them on the page. I do try tho to write other stuff. But when he’s there, he’s there. I can’t pretend otherwise. I can’t stuff it. He’ll read it. But none of its a secret. I think until I can get my ass to Florida he’ll still be lurking in the spaces of my head and heart. The enigma. One of the reasons I’m dropping the price in my house today. I just want to get the fuck out of here. To someplace that has no memories, no triggers.

        • Actually, I just realized that this is what I did when I saw him in January. Spent the weekend and talked him off the edge by the end of it. So I guess I was successful. Even tho as a thanks for it, he betrayed me yet again, to her. Still, I’m glad I did it. And would do it again if it was needed snd requested. My conscience is clear. His? Doubtful.

  1. I love this piece, Deb, really beautiful writing and I agree with Laurelwolflives, push the bastard off!!! I would love to push mine off with him, especially after all I have learned about him over the last few days….. what a piece of crap he is… tell you tonight. Hugs, M.

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