The Ascent

The email sent, the job secured, the other side

of the country. There's nowhere left for me to hide.

I stare at empty boxes, flattened, stacked up high,

my own small kingdom soon to disappear, to die.

This feeling in my gut, a slow, metallic click,

like safety bars pulled down, too tight, they make me sick.

The upward grind, each cog a beat against my chest,

leaving the ground behind, no time to even rest.

The height keeps growing, and the wind begins to sting.

Muffled screams from far ahead, of what the drop will bring.

I can't go back. I can't go forward. Just this rise.

And the horizon's curve, reflected in my eyes.