Teetering

Don’t feel bad.

When you look back to see that I’ve receded like ocean waves,

nearly gone from your view.

Receded from the shores of a life I could never truly claim

to begin with.

What you didn’t see was that I was already teetering.

One foot in front of the other on a tightrope of lack

and I made it look good.

I did.

I’ll pay myself that compliment.

I earned it.

The very fact that you’re surprised that

I’ve disappeared from your day to day,

a sign that I was pulling it off,

this playing at life like a pony tailed school girl

in a dress with black and white Oxfords and

bobby socks to match,

playing with dolls in

the dollhouse her father made for her.

You thought I was present, really here,

experiencing what you were, seeing what you saw,

feeling what you felt, needing what you need,

but a tightrope walker like me

can only ever have one thought amidst the tension

“Don’t look down.”