Random phone picture

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The Edge, my old friend

I step from the edge

Maybe it left me behind

Impulses were heartbeats

Chances flapped like wings

Ashes of Icarus, my memories

Bruises, postcards from edge

Fathers chargin, wore as crown

Now the soul tires at the view

Thoughts make fences before me

Fear, my perfect stranger sits beside

His sister worry reaches for me

Her warm hug masks cold touch

My younger shadow warns me

My hearing has diminished somehow

Maybe I never had it at all

My eyes still long for a view

My heart wishes for random beat

The edge still calls out to me

It takes even longer to go back

The flights of fancy just mental

Deep inside, my old friend knows

We are not what we used to be

To each other, at least.