What goes up, most come down.....

On the edge of a thread
we hang
climbing, we pull away
just making it longer to climb

it flows as we linger
like a river
blue and sparkling in our eyes
we pull inch by inch
as it flows on and on

like a cat with a toy,
we twist it
like our minds
it binds harder
as we come together
this thread of pain

like the tip of a needle
we prick oursleves
only to end up patching our wounds
for we hang
because climbing only brings us down
again