I keep drifting back and forth between the spaces; I am trapped in this limbo with both my feet hanging over the edge. I will oscillate between two counts per minute and seventy-six counts per second. One wrong step and I'll slip into the abyss. One wrong step and I'll surrender both my hands to yours.
... I have to admit there is a certainty to this. This capacity for pain already stationed onto my peripheral. Perhaps I am holding myself back because I am afraid to be free. Freedom; what does that constitute again? All I associate it with is a lack of your prevalance.