Slips

There are days
When once again
The world collapses
Pulled from under us
Pulling us apart
A dark pit fall
Waiting on this moonlit path

We edge closer
Fearful of all the things
That have gone before
Wary
Cautiously
Not even holding hands
For fear of the guilt
of dragging the other down

We watch from afar
As the future races
As one of us reaches for it
The other steps back
Reaching for the hand
But it reaches out
Towards the light
That ever present future
The green green grass

And I slip and trip
Over hidden pits
And the race carries on up
And over
And home

I sit
Down
And
Tell myself
You have done this before
You are still alive
Get
Up
Now.