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Rachel Aug 2019
maybe if the speed at which you fell equalled the number of friends you had, you could have been saved.

maybe if the depth of the water that caught you equalled how much you were loved by someone, you could have been saved.

maybe if the rocks tied to your ankles were as strong as your resilience to torture or your fight to push above all of the darkness that consumed you, you could have been saved.

but the maths of the universe is unpredictable
and your lifeboat came too late.
Rachel Aug 2019
In a game of chess I am a master tactician.
I rise. I strike. I conquer.
Yet how come
In the game of my heart
And the war of my mind
I fall. I defend. I lose.
New enemies surface, beating and thrashing and slamming every corner of me until I am hollow and defeated.
The glint in my eyes
The smirk on my lips
Previous signs of my victory.
But I do not wear them anymore
Because, my dear
Life is not chess
And I have not won.
Rachel Aug 2019
I drift on my orbit
Senseless ignorance
Until one day
Our orbits intertwine
And we collide
We collide with the force of a thousand supernovas destined to implode with unbridled passion
And we dance
As one
Our energies mixed
Our souls combined
And the sun rains jealousy on our euphoria but nothing can dampen the love that binds us
Our orbit is infinite
Rachel Aug 2019
Time walks the knife edge between waiting forever whilst looking forward, and quickly falling whilst looking back.

I am both. I am neither. Sometimes I wonder which me is real. She who smiles and laughs and explores with undeniable curiosity. Or she who falls into the wait of nothing and empty and strange.

I am a frame shift in reality. A bridge between normal and too far to reach. Which side of the knife edge should I walk on?

— The End —