A Blurred Kaleidoscopic

I stood there. 

In the stillness of the nights embrace. 

The gentle breeze kissed my cheek. 

I was a lost soul standing at the edge. 

Standing on the edge.

Below the tips of my toes,

The headlights danced like shooting stars that fell a fatal fall to earth. 

Beams create constellations that guide the souls on their journey.

Everything looks so small when you’re up high.

It’s beautiful.

Like fireflies in a rushing stream as they crawl the hard man made riverbed. 

A pulsing sea I want to dive into. 

I want to jump.

The yellow kaleidoscope of lights blurred under the vale of tears that fell from from my defeated eyes.

I let my fingers that were wrapped around the rail loosen. 

The only thing preventing myself go. 

I leaned closer to hear the symphony of engines. 

I’ve always wanted to fly ever since I was a kid. 

Jump off chairs into a fortress of pillows. 

It never worked.

I’d always fall. 

But maybe I wasn’t high enough. 

Would this be high enough? 

The twinkling blurs beneath had a

hypnotic pull I couldn’t ignore.

I shuffled my foot closer to the edge. 

I’m ready to fly. 

I looked up to the dark sky above me. 

No stars shined. 

They were covered with an obsidian ink that devoured and chocked any ray of hope that tried to shine through. 

That’s what I felt but 

Secretly I wanted something. 

A sign. 

“Why don’t you hear me?” I desperately sobbed towards the darkness. 

“You’ve given up on me like everyone else, haven’t you?” 

I waited for a denial. A miracle. 

But nothing. 

Just the hum below me that welcomed me with open arms. 

I closed my eyes and took in a breath. 

I allowed my muscles to relax preparing to let go. 

My fingers released from the rail finally letting go. 

Letting it all go. 

Finally. 

A gentle chime came from deep within my pocket. 

My eyes snapped open and my fingers searched for the rail again. 

Anger crept up through my veins. 

I always hated being interrupted. 

Mom would come in and say “don’t jump from the table you’ll hurt yourself” 

Always ruining my fun. 

I searched in my pocket to find what was responsible for the noise. 

My phone. 

A text. 

A friend. 

Two letters. 

One word. 

A sign. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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