The Line

[thedailypoem]

The line dividing love from hate
narrows as I stand by and watch
I jump across from side to side
playing a sick game of hopscotch.
The line dividing love from hate
is the tightrope on which I tread
Will the wind blow from the east or west?
Either way, when I land I am dead.
The line dividing love from hate
is blurry and undefined
the haze of it makes me so dizzy
will I fall forward or tumble behind?
The line dividing love from hate
is small as an atom about to be split
there will certainly be an explosion
so do I stay or do I quit?