Feet and Shoulders

Stains of feet are all over these shoulders,
reminding me not to do the same.
This might be the lowest and the darkest place in existence.
My toes can feel the edge, and I will laugh thinking this is progress.

I've been running into fewer people, wondering if my destination is completely baron.
Each of them warns me to turn back, and as I do they climb over my shoulders.
Angry, because like the last, their hands are stretched in the other direction.
Every time I muster the courage to reach, all I can feel is space and debris.

This is all I have ever known; which is why I must keep going on.
I don't know if you remember me, but I will keep your memory with me.
Even thinking about you seems far away, and I struggle to remember where I am.
Without.