I am staring down
From my cliff-top refuge
Among clouds and chirped melodies
Into nothing...
I know there is ground,
A harsh reality waiting to catch me
And shatter me...
But where?
Will I feel the embrace
Of the piercing rocks awaiting
In a week,
Or a year?
If I jump,
Will I fall alone,
Or will you be there
Holding my hand
And pulling me clear
Of the rough edge
That wants to scrape and scratch my skin?
As I fall,
I am weightless,
At peace...
But I fear the end,
When sea-sharpened teeth tear at my flesh,
And the ocean pours salt into my open wounds...
The open jaws of failure
Are inevitable,
Inescapable,
If I dare jump...
But if I stay here,
In my solitary sanctuary
Of summer solstice,
I am guaranteed
Safety,
At the cost of submitting
To apathy,
To stay in this haven of detachment
I must be stoically unsatisfied.
So it seems
That I am torn apart by indecision,
The ifs and buts cutting me deeper
Than the rocks
That lurk beneath the shroud of uncertainty
Ever could.
Maybe you would be my wings...
Maybe the adrenaline would stir my motionless heart...
If I jump, I will land,
And be consumed by that monster of grief,
But falling would bring me such relief,
Possibly eternal, probably brief...
I stand on the edge of the cliffs,
Perfectly halfway between my refuge and the abyss...
Arms outstretched,
Eyes closed,
I will let the wise winds of fate decide.