When my toes overstep this cliff edge
And drag my spirit down through my soul,
I begin to make a solemn pledge
That I will one day persevere to lose it all.
“He” hefts his weighty darkness down
Upon my shifting back, heavy shoulders bunched
With muscle, ready to drown
And leave my body pale and bloated, hunched
Over into death. Into this finished
Chasm of truth. This truth that we all answer the
Call of the void. Whether pushed,
Or longingly drawn like a golden lover’s kiss.
Bring the bite and noose to me
Then sweet one, and call my name like a siren
Of silver and lilacs, the simile
Of wealth and glory. But, foolish me, what then?

Then I answer my call to the dark,
Wisps of words half said turn away in his scream
“Come to me, my sparrow-lark
And help repair this rip and mend that seam
With your human spirit,
As flimsy as it is. I need it, my burdensome one,
Your eyes and fire lit
Brightly, illuminated and gorgeous, second to none.”

The voice calls me, as I
Stand with my toes edging off this cliff. Alone,
It calls me. And to the sky
I fall, until I am naught but air, and space and bone.

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