Cracks

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Cracks

The forceful rush of the wind detained me, clinging to my back tightly.

No longer seeing red, no longer filled with anger and deceit, I reached for the ridge up above.

It called my name, like a glove that was made just for me.

Making my palms wet, the sweat added another obstacle to overcome.

 

Acclimation was overwhelming me,

The heart growing numb as my lungs tried to keep up with the sudden change.

Rapid and swift, quick and fast, it all happened in the blink of an eye.

A crack below, just one, a ridge above, just one.

 

Rocks below began to fall away as I aimed to stretch higher for the ridge.

It begged for me to go forth, as more rocks tumbled down below.

Engulfing the ground beneath, the dust charged towards me.

I was not its victim. I would not be any longer.

 

Trying to grab onto my ankles I kicked it away.

No more would the remnants of the past attack me.

Revenge was whisked away by the whispers of another breeze, this time helpful and persuasive,

Taking with it the hollowed emptiness of the mountain below.

 

The dust clouded beneath me, hiding the rocks down below,

Hiding the pieces of a memory once before.

Up above, my hand now clasped the ridge.

I was past the knife-sharp, pointed ridges that lay underneath.

Past the cracks, empty from useless efforts.

With my back to the wind, to the smoke, to the dust and rubble from beneath me,

To the hollowed cracks, the pointed ridges and pieces,

I placed all the power in my hands.

The time now came, to move on and past, to go up above and beyond.

Now the sounds of birds flying round sang to me.

The warmth of the brilliant sun caressed my skin.

The fresh and calm air grew heavy and embraced me.

 

I could wait no longer; spend no more time dwelling on the cracks of the past.

There’s nothing more down below,

To the top and above I must go.

 

 

 

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