High Desert

There's an emptiness that lingers when the novelty wears off. A darkness lies in wait, it circles your fortress looking for soft spots, for weak links in the chainmail; turn away for a second and it twists the knife in your chest. I stand silent at a precipice; is it asking me to jump? Everything slips through your fingers, this is just a vacation from reality, I miss New York so my lungs ache and fear, again, I am on a limb that will not carry me. 

But remember: it will pass. 

Look up. 

The canopy is waiting for you.