Ive said everything but that one word.
I am out on a limb,
reaching out further onto that branch ...
clumsily reaching ... stretching ...
the further I go, the more the limb shakes, and bows beneath me...
I have no net,
the longer, the less confident.
Nerves of steel become a matted mosh of butterfly's and worms.
Nausea
and the desire to run...
for fear of being the fool yet again.