A narrow rift opens—
splitting the bright
from what’s gone sour.
It widens by the hour,
pulling down pieces
the past won’t claim.
Throw in your worries,
your half-formed fears—
the rift swallows everything.
With every offering
it grows deeper.
Careful now—don’t slip.
One side: the hopeful.
The other: the haunted.
Be grateful, we say,
for the space between—
as if distance could save us,
as if it could drag the worst away.
But listen—our footholds
are dusting out beneath us.
And in the end,
we tumble together
into the widening dark.
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Author:
Megan Blaney (
Offline) - Published: December 3rd, 2025 18:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21

Offline)
Comments1
Rifts, cracks, splits, develop into cravas' and canyons of distance. Falling in together being taken over by our distance and falling into the darkness of it all. Very nicely done
Thank you! No matter what side you are on, it all ends the same
You are welcome
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