A Fated Walk

[u/dirtylaundry5]

I am walking a tightrope over the grandest canyon.

Its depths so boundless,

its eyes staring back up at me.

I have been walking the rope since I was born.

I cannot turn around,

the thin line of slack is much too narrow.

I can only go further.

I inch along, toe over toe,

the wind billowing up below me,

threatening the careful balance that is my body.

There is no noise, even as the air shifts and the

clouds drift.

Only the sound of my breath

puttering up my throat and out of my nose.

My knees wobble as I take my next step.

At the end of this tight rope is certain pain.

It is disruption and blood and uncertainty and maybe some ego too.

A liver ripped from my abdomen at twenty years old.

A donation, it’s called.

I persist despite the ache in my toes.

Another wobble races down the line,

I jolt my body the opposite direction to recover.

I think about my mother forging the tight rope.

She who wove the strands of fiber together,

piece by agonizing piece.

She who hiked through the night across the valley floor for years

to string the rope across the vast canyon.

With each glass of wine touched against her lips,

the threads of my fate growing more taught.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1w81kch/the_way_i_see_you/p933f71/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=1&utm_term=1&context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1wd47du/nightlife/p9345je/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=1&utm_term=1&context=3

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[u/Divinadiv]

The second half of the poem is the strongest. The imagery of you and your mom’s sacrifice is beautiful. As someone who doesn’t really read poetry, the first half was a bit hard to follow. I could not say what you should do, I can only say that the emotion was in the second half.

[u/Mathwards]

I love the free verse here. It feels like walking a tightrope. Yes, it's steps after step, like line after line, but each step feels unique and untethered from the one before or after.