SG ( / )

A Suicidal Tendency

Standing at the cliff edge,
I must lean against the wind
To test its strength.
Will it hold me?
I am daring it to stop
But I fly!
This gale
Plays with my hair
Moulds clothes to my body.
I go
Up on tiptoes
With hands outstretched
Close my eyes.
And find the edge.
I Smell ozone
Smile, and taste the sea,
A fine mist bathes my face.
And the birds mock me.
The force is so great
I am suffocating,
Unable to draw breath
And the noise!
The screaming shells
Of a Battered throthing hell
Groan and resonate around me.
I am part of this storm
A Screaming banshee
The wind swallows my voice
Keeping it.
I feel clean.
As I turn my back on tne sea
The wind
guides me like a mother
Back from the edge.

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Comments (1)

Nice strong images and sensory descriptions. Lovely ending. -chuck