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The Edge
September 13, 2014
I stand on the edge.
My hair whipping wildly in the ebony wind.
Whispering serenity.
Sanity crumbles under my bare feet,
Tumbling down
Down
Down.
My eyes stare blankly at the abyss before me, the memories before me.
I stare.
And stare.
And stare.
But do not see.
I am falling,
Falling like I did long ago.
Falling, but standing still and quiet.
Falling, like you fell in that hangman’s noose.
© Trenton O., Highland, UT
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