and worse still you won’t let me. I’m on the cusp of
begging you to forget me
but you’ve already made it uncomfortably clear that no
matter how near
to the cliff face I feel, you’re not letting me go
anywhere. And so I run.
Wind in hair, feet pounding ground, I’m endeavouring to
outrun light
and sound but then you catch me by the collar just as my
feet
are about to become unbound. I’m on the edge of something
now,
inhaling sea air and as my lungs contract you try to pull
me back in tact
but I’m still wriggling against you. You can’t understand
what I’m hiding
from on the cliff top, why a long drop and a slow stop might
seem
more appealing that whatever these emotions are that I’m
feeling,
which should give you an idea of how itchy they make me, or
maybe
an idea of how few I’m showing and how many I’m really
concealing.
I can feel a world of love inside my chest, and despite my
best efforts
to stifle it, it is now stifling me. Shoving happiness in
every crevice
and in every blank space around me and now this has finally
found me,
I’ve never been so simultaneously content and hell-bent to
ruin something,
mostly for fear, or blind panic, that someone else will
take it away.
You say that’s a stupid tactic for saving myself, and I
want to disagree
out of pure spite despite knowing that you’re right and
that this here
cliff top, is not a sensible platform on which to turn my
feelings around.
I take a step closer to safer ground, legs crossed and
pulled up towards me,
still comfortably close to the crag, as I wait for you to
talk me down.
Excellent!
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