I lost my footing.
I need to be grounded.
Trying to catch my balance before I fall.
Reaching, grasping for anything to save me
or break my fall before I reach the bottom.
Doctor, medications, family and friends.
Arms flailing, hands stretching for
anything to hold onto.
Don’t want to hit the bottom hard.
Need something to save me.
That must be me.
I see myself as I whiz by.
I see the look of panic but,
I can’t do anything

It’s happening again.
Please let me land safely.
At ease.
At ease with myself.
Don’t let it happen again Tara.
I’m begging.
I try to grab onto whatever I
can to stop this decline.
What happens now?
How will I land?
Or will I just drop as I am?
Will I land on my feet?
Will I soar to the bottom?
Will I crush on impact?

I’m struggling.
I struggle to make it
through each day without the
impending feeling of doom.
I am making it though.
I must remember that.
I just want to be.
Just be.
Please let me be.
Let me be without the struggle.