Quicksand

I am always Walking on quicksand. Always on The verge of sinking. One more false step, One more tiny movement Away from the abyss. Think I've only Got 2 more minutes Till I'll fall. But the 2 minutes pass And my head Remains above ground. Not sure exactly how Or why. Then a happy moment, Only lasts Until I feel My feet sink Into the ground again. Then my legs And stomach... Until someone Pulls me out. Why she does this I don't know. And never stopped To think about it. All I know is I'm always walking On quicksand, Always on The verge of sinking Because that saving grace Which pulls me out Doesn't take me To another place. She just leaves me Here, in the quicksand Until I nearly sink Into it again.