Canyon

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I felt an intense cessation of fear climbing the walls inside my shell. My bones ached, echoed between my cavity and yours, devoid of everything you.  My blood coagulated on the river banks of amber beneath my wrist. I hated going there; going b...

I felt an intense cessation of fear climbing the walls inside my shell. My bones ached, echoed between my cavity and yours, devoid of everything you.  My blood coagulated on the river banks of amber beneath my wrist. I hated going there; going back to the moment you and I almost met. I was outstretched on the end of a rusted blade and you were too far gone beneath my skin, but you reached anyhow. The sound, I’ll never forget that sound. Although detrimental, in a way, I quite enjoyed the noise it created. It was something, anything, better than the silence you left. I knew you, I thought I did. It was like loving a stranger, feeling their pain and sadness, rejoicing in the epitomes of their souls. And just when you think you’re close enough to the edge, close enough to smell the breeze flying up through their canyon, they turn around and make you watch them jump. Falling in front of you is a stranger you might not ever see, a stranger you might not ever hear, but a stranger who committed suicide with your being in their eyes. When they hit rock bottom, they have hit you. You are no good for them, you are the rock that breaks their fall and they will hate you for it. You, suicidal stranger, are destined to hurt me and I am destined to be devoid of you, but I’d hoped to watch you jump a thousand time more just to feel the breeze carry your breath my way again.

 

Alexandra L. Narron

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