falling
there are cracks
in the foundation
where she stands.
crumbling and
consuming her
problems as she
she stares out
at the fading sunset
and imagines her life
is the same way:
it's changing and beautiful
but disappearing
all to soon. she can't
decide if the sun is
willing to disappear
or if it's forced to.
if the sun pleads and
implores to stay
but the moon
casts it away,
or if the sun is tired of
being the light
in our world
and wishes we'd
leave it alone
to burn out.
she's come to find
people are committing suicide
either when everything's dark
or when a new day
is on the rise.
she would rather
have one last taste
of the sun's rays
caressing her face
before she decided
to completely
fade away.
she didn't want to leave
while surrounded by
darkness; her life's
like that as it is.
now some say it's a
fitting time to die
when the sun is
returning. a sign of
a new beginning
and of new life,
but she couldn't say
there would be a life
to start after this one.
her life doesn't
give her much hope
for another one anyway.
she just wants peace.
she wants full breaths
that don't feel like
violent threats
and suppressed memories.
she inhales the
city air: it's still warm
from the sun's charity,
and she embraces
this newly found
warmth.
she knows it's now or never.
she wants the sun and her
to fall together. she wants
to hold the sun's hands
as she falls into
what could be.
the closest thing
to love and intimacy
she's ever been,
or ever will be.
maybe the sun will
pick up her spirit
and cradle it
until they burn out
and consume our neighboring
planets in a wisp
of white,
blinding heat.
maybe everyone else
is wrong: what about any of this
is defeat?