Inhale

This is a poem I wrote a few years ago. It's one of the first ones I wrote so I thought it would be appropriate to post as my first poem here.

Inhale

The waiting is here

I can feel it

The long pause before

I strike out

All the pressure

Overwhelming

Until I crumble

I'll try

I'll try to stay up

Stay tall

So much waiting

But not enough time

Like a glass full

So full that when the table is nudged

A little bit spills over

The waiting is filled with spilling

But it's just a little water

Compared to the whole glass

I could survive the small spills

It's the crumbling

The weight of air and space

Is too intense

My table is wearing away

Cracks forming

Before, I could ignore it

I knew my base

My very foundation

Could crumble at any second

But I bore my smile

I stayed tall

But the first piece is breaking off

The brief pause before the fall is here

The cracks are shaking

My very core

Can I prepare myself

Can I add more water to my glass

Can I stay tall until the wind turns away

Until the sun goes down

Until no one is looking

How much control

Does the glass have over the table?