Lean

I don’t cling to
   what I know
   what is familiar
              calming or
              comforting.

If I did,
   I would find myself
          holding on to
                   air.

Every breath
   I breathe in
             or out
                is outside
                       of comfort.

There is no zone
   in view
   in reach
     in time
           or space.

Instead,
   I must attempt
     to make an
          educated guess
              try to someday
                    maybe
                find something
     to lean into         the edges
             and hope I land
                      somewhere close.