I must pretend for my mind's sake
that my heart is not dangling by a thread
over edge of a precipitous, jagged cliff
with granite fangs waiting for anything
that dares to fall over the edge.
I must pretend for my heart's sake
that hers does not burn
with a sickening, scalding hate
whenever she avoids my eye,
since it's not like she can bear to give me
a cold, passing glance these days anyway.
I must pretend for my sanity's sake
that my betrayal and foolishness
has not demolished everything
we fought to keep clean and honest
because my heart would rather
the uncertainty of dangling by a thread
than the absoluteness of the fall.