Balanced

Balanced, we’re so perfectly balanced right now. Or so it seems. Our feet dangling, but it’s fun. Avoiding any real contact with what’s below. Gliding over the world like children on swings.

A game, perhaps. If we were to be honest with ourselves. But we rarely ever are. Because lies can become truths if you’re not careful. Just as readily as the truth will admit it never meant what it implied. But if chosen, or stumbled upon, it becomes awkward while waiting for translation. So misunderstood in the darkness. In that fragile balance between lover and friend.

Balanced, but only because the lies keep it so.