This poem is about my source

Tw/cw: Implied suicidal thoughts, slight graphic imagery, source trauma

The view from up here (is terrible and comforting)

The view from up here is terrible
The distance between my tired feet and the ground
Is fatal
Or it would be
If I had the guts
Or rather the cowardice
It’s dizzying
My stomach sinks at the thought
Of falling unrestrained
Of the earth trying to catch me
Of my bones splintering as a result
The view from up here is comforting
I’m used to looking down from high places
Usually at the places I love
The country that was my home
But not this time
This time there is nothing left
No sign that I have been here
It might as well not have happened
At least this time I didn’t do the damage
At least this time
But if there is nothing left
What can hold me
Why do I stand here
Contemplating a casualty
I make my escape
A desperate attempt to leave the fear behind
To leave this place
and the memories of things
that most will never know happened
It’s so very cold
I don’t build towers anymore

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Pub: 19 Sep 2023 03:32 UTC
Views: 75