Stand on the edge and look down ….
It is so far down that reality blurs
into an abstract haze:
Is it solid ground,
soft verdant green
that will envelop you in its caress as you land?
Is it hard concrete that waits
to shatter-splatter you into a liquid pool?
Is it that empty eternal void
you tumble into night on night,
clutching at your throat
as you gasp for that last, lingering breath?
Perhaps it is Death
that awaits you in his welcoming grasp?
Stand on the edge and look down:
The ground is giving way beneath your feet.
Your heartbeat rises to a crescendo in your chest.
You cannot breathe.
Frantically, you grab at the cloth by your neck.
Your legs are weak.
You feel the earth crumbling away.
Your eyes stare wild and wide.
A scream echoes ghastly, panicked,
reverberating around you
in a maelstrom of despair.
Is this your voice?
Stand on the edge and look down:
only scant seconds remain.
What will you do?
Dare you step back?
Can you will your shrieking mind to comprehend, to obey?
And if you do,
are you safe?
Reach behind you,
go on, you can ….
Feel it?
The wall, rough and damp?
Touch it,
grasp at it,
your scrabbling fingers
shredded and bleeding from the sharp rock.
It doesn’t matter.
Find a purchase
and drag yourself towards it,
fight the lure from the edge.
Rest your clammy cheek against the rough-hewn stone,
caress the damp rock with your cheek,
ignore the bloody tears that course down your face,
breathe again.
Your chest heaves,
your mouth agape
drawing in draughts of cold air.
The pounding of your heart lessens.
Now close your eyes,
sleep
dream again.
© 2007
