Gravity's Edge

Standing on the edge,

she felt sweet gravity's pull;

Like a lost lover,

it whispered to her,

promising a soft place to fall

amidst jagged edges,

amidst white frothy waves

crashing against rocks

bloodied by those

who had succumbed before,

deemed lost by those

who never gave a damn

when they were still alive,

slowly drowning

in their own tears.

Oh, how sweet it would be!

Freedom from pain,

freedom from despair,

freedom from loneliness,

floating on a breeze,

dancing with God.

She could hear His voice,

gentle like a dove...

Not now...it is not your time.

But what was left?

What more could she do?

She was broken and bruised,

addicted to her inner demons,

tired of trying,

tired of failing

day after day after day.

Like a ghost in the darkness,

Sweet Death whispered

freedom.

Now, standing on the precipice,

the ocean sang to her

with ancient voices gone before

in words she could not understand.

Those who knew her

would call her selfish,

a coward...

talk about how she

would go to hell;

But they never cared before.

Their words meant little;

And gravity's pull continued...