Keep Breathing

I thought the world stopped when mine stopped. Apparently everyone is not aware of how little it could take for me to slip. The cliff is right at my toe nails but people still occasionally like to see the pebbles fall beneath me. "Whoa" they say, that was close. But I still make it; thus far the burning inside has not ended me in engulfing flames. I may waver back and forth over the million miles of air below me, but I seem to stay on ground somehow. But sometimes I don't even want the ground at my toes, the boiling blood beneath my skin is too hot to let settle. I just want to jump. And let the cool breeze of rapid air send blue waves through my blood stream. I want the air to brush away that hair and feel the fresh invisible blanket upon my face. If only it were so simple.