I close my eyes and see it –

I am standing at the edge of a cliff

completely and utterly alone.

I am teetering with the choice

of new beginnings.

Here, on this mountain top,

there is no one to stop me

as I ready myself for the fall.

Looking down, 

I know this choice is like concrete.

There is no beauty in its grey edges;

no time to paint a masterpiece upon

its rough surface.

All I have time for,

is this last singular choice to end

this part of my life, or not.

You see, I have already packed my bags;

I have already said goodbye to you.

I certainly have tormented myself enough.

I carry no more time to think it over

because looking back down this mountain;

it seems like infinity.

It feels like kicking rocks with bare feet.

They won’t go very far, and the scars will be permanent.

Bracing myself, 

I peer over the edge of this solitary cliff.

I see at the bottom the sorrow 

I have thrown over.

It now resides beside the heart I dropped;

I used it as my test fall.

I catch a glimpse of the loneliness

I pushed off the ledge;

its unwanted company had been

lingering around for days.

Finally, I see my future;

it’s lying there on the cold ground

refusing to stay next to any of my doubts.

It only looks back up at me,

waiting for me to join.

“This part of your life will soon be over,” it says.

“Don’t be afraid, it will only hurt for a while.”

But I know this kind of pain may never go away.

I close my eyes to block out my future’s protest.

To meditate on my courage;

to seek into your confusing love,

but I cannot focus;

the silence is way too loud.

I pause to pray to something, 

anything.

To the sky, 

to the feet that allowed me to 

climb this mountain top,

to the courage that is so close

to setting me free.

My prayer is beautiful, 

but out loud, all it sounds like is:

“I need help, I need courage, I need strength, I need trust.”

In the end, I know it is already over;

I killed this part of my life months ago.

All that is left is to open my eyes

and walk off the edge.

In this brief moment,

before pain,

before the aftermath of coping with loss,

before tears form into a river.

In this fleeting moment,

I will know what it feels like to fly.

With this warmth, 

I stretch out my arms like an angel’s wings,

take a deep breath and set myself free.

I will not look back once I reach the ground.