a cliff’s edge -
how cliche.
you’ve been here 42 times
just this year.
your toes leak over the precipice.
the sediment spills over, gives way.
and it all scatters on impact.
you fix your gaze across the water
as everything crumbles.
unreachable cities scintillate.
your fantasy of warmth, hope, love -
it ruptures. your ears scream
in the silence.
the storm cells roll in like
the candles
that burst through their glass jars -
it all shatters unexpectedly.
a pool of wax and grit and glass; glinting.
below the cliffs,
the moonlight flows like a river
and the pockets of darkness
shine. it’s all alight.
the celestial being
unearths fragments
of splintered shale and
suddenly and without warning -
The feelings you have
ignored
dismissed
pushed aside
buried
in the dungeon of your
mental catacombs
42 times already…
…they assault you.
nearly consume you.
your mind conjures treason.
it’s all out warfare now and the shelling is
a flashbang away from overcoming you.
–
below, a campfire.
it’s smoke floats.
your arms outstretched.
your fingers, raw.
sore; chewed up.
bleeding. bleeding. bleeding.
your hand reaches,
stretches.
strains.
desperately longs to make contact
with the wandering tendrils of smoke.
your inner chaos and turmoil must
touch and hold and confirm that
the smokey apparition
that flutters up into the atmosphere,
is tangible.
the night was so, so still.
yet a shocking gust of wind
ushers it all away.
you don’t jump.
you don’t even sit down on the edge
and take in the view.
you bend over.
all the way over.
the kind where all the blood
rushes to your head.
those veins
around your temples
throb.
and thump
and pulse.
while you’re upside down -
while everything is flipped,
you take a deep breath
your lungs hoover up reality.
you gasp and choke.
silently of course.
but your brain screams so, so loud.
before the eye in the sky notices,
you flip your hair
sending it vertical.
you whirl around
on your slippery heel.
“i’m fine. i’ve got this”
you mutter to yourself.
but below, the waves crash
and crash
and crash
and crash
and crash.
you leave the scene.
the cliff melts away.
but over the edge,
dancing far below you,
the ocean never stops crashing
you’re fine.
you’ve got this.
until the fault shifts
and the tsunami hits.
you know that the waves
are never ending.
but you walk away
and you leave them there.
daringly.
your soul knows that
your fingers could never
make contact with the smoke.
because if they do,
your entire planet would burn.
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