A Short Drop And A Sudden Stop

Looking down the cliff
At the inviting infinity
An end to the pain
A call to the divinity
Maybe I am wrong
My decision unwise
But then you shouldn’t have pushed me
You could’ve saved me
But now its late and you are gone
My heart shattered and my hopes torn
Looking at my feet at the edge
How would it feel to fall freely
With nothing to hold, breathing deeply
My last breaths, my last movement
Stretching my arms, I close my eyes
About to step into nothingness
Into the lap of randomness
Clear sky my company, blurring vision my destiny
I let go
I fall and fall
Letting my body free for the wind to hold
Knowing what I did
But not where I would end
I took my short drop
And now await my sudden stop

14 thoughts on “A Short Drop And A Sudden Stop

  1. I enjoyed this immensely. To take such a sad place to be in the mind and make it almost a romantic journey is a talent. Thank you for the follow of my blog as well. I hope we both can keep each other entertained with the journeys of imagination we create.
    Keep Writing


  2. Someone related this to TL?!

    Well I liked your writing here. It’s simple, but romantic at times. Often I imagine all of these things- it’s easy for me to write about privately but I try not to worry people who know me, and I try also not to depress people on the blog…too deeply :L

    Are all your posts poems? I’m going to check more of them out.
    Thanks for the follow and the like- glad you liked it, really.

      1. And so you should.

        I think of my blog as a…I was about to write basically a less poetic version of my “about section”- but also I find that if I go into the world and just start talking about all the things I want to understand and all the things I feel and what it’s like to be alive and to experience- it really gets in the way of other people’s interests.

        Mostly it feels like people just want to talk about other people’s creations, what should be consumed, why? I want to create and to discuss and explore, so I can understand and so create better/different.

        Anyway, one thing about the blog is it’s like fishing with a specific type of bait- only you can catch conversations and only with people who have a certain like-mindedness, somehow related to something you’d written.

        I just like how a blog feels more alive than something that will always be dead: a private notebook.

      2. a private notebook which anyone can read.;)
        Its true that through blogging we get to interact with people who have the same mindset as we do. It really enhances the blogging experience. likes comments follows. one never feels lonely

      3. If only that really were the case :L

        My blog is a void whose silence eventually wears me down and demands to be written in, I’m just glad I always come up with something.

        I only write when I feel like writing- when I have that feeling I hit “New Post” and start typing. I just have to make sure it’s different enough from other things I’ve written.

        I add a title last and then click what category and tags it should have. Publish.

        It’s different than loneliness- I wrote about it in another blog I used to have (this might take me a moment to find- it took about 3 minutes)-

        “I’m shouting in a darkened room and though it’s silent, I can’t rid myself of the persistent feeling that it’s not that the room’s empty; it’s that I’m being ignored.”

      4. that feeling is great when you just finished typing out your post and hit “publish” isnt it ?

        i write more poetry than regular stuff. it helps me to .. relax!

        its really nice what you have written. but it may not be true. what if you chose to be ignored?

      5. Every case is different of course- it’s mostly true that I can only speak for myself (when it comes to the smaller details).

        Choosing to be ignored…is an interesting concept to me because…I can’t really make much sense of it. Whether you are ignored or not is completely up to the people doing the ignoring. So you’re talking about accepting being ignored?

        That’s fine. I stopped shouting eventually… it was really just an immature phase.

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