Reaching Out
I reach out with my hands
extending
out and out,
but all I feel is cold rain
numbing my arms.
If I reach farther
I will fall
faster than the rain--
making no mistakes in
destination--
There is nowhere else to go.
I can't close my eyes
to ignore
the empty space before me.
I must face my truth
every morning
without even a cup of coffee,
without someone to tell me
I will not die alone.
I cannot feel my hands anymore--
if another hand were to reach
for mine
I don't believe
I would be able to feel it.