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Nov 2017
Saw her standing on a balcony's ledge, staring down. Swore she could have jumped if it could stop the talking in her head, she's lost contact with herself, "insane" with hatred of self- she's felt the breath of death against her neck since **** had hit the fence- now she's hopping over it , total devotional focus, to hop, to land in the place of older, like greener grass, being sober, to love the one reflected when beauty gets inspected, expected recognition of her faulty symmetrics, civil disobedience creeping up in the rear of her, teetering on the length of the time that takes to make it, from top to bottom, toppling, dropping nonstop, won't stop till her heart stops.
Inspired by a move I recently watched.
Bésia Davis
Written by
Bésia Davis  16/F
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