The Almost

the almost
Moving slowly towards it
Apprehension bubbles and sweats out through my pores
Breathing is tricky right now
Breaths come only with concious and careful thought
Mouth is open slightly
Will this make breathing easier and keep me alive?
I swallow, and try to
swallow the tension and fear so that my mouth will be free.
They go into my stomach.
Now my stomach is full and overflowing back up
They threaten to overtake
my mouth again and spill out over my lips and onto it.
Somehow I control them,
And they begin to descend again into the charred tummy
I look at it and wonder
Can I do this task and snatch the reward and beauty from the pain?
Maybe it is too late
Maybe I see some glorious thing that does not truly exist.
I decide to try anyway
I look out over myself and my fear and the blackness behind my eyes
And, as I move in
With baited breath, parted lips and slightly crooked teeth
I fall.