Hanging

Hanging.

Arms cramping,

Gravity's cinch tightening,

Fingers: brittle, chapped nails,

Filed jaggedly by the course cliff rock,

Slipping

-Gripping.

Holding. Hanging.

.

The rain begins.

Innocent,

Droplets sparkle in the moonlight like diamonds.

But what lines the lethal ground beneath?

Water. It is not to be trusted.

Beginning with a trickle,

It glides across scarred skin,

Filling pockets,

Dampening hair,

And then - it collaborates with gravity,

The clamp tightens once more.

.

Hands lose hold,

A subtle water coating

Making rocks slick.

Legs kick out,

Fighting, biting,

Igniting

Fire.

Lit, in an impossible place,

Within a feeble heart,

One blaze can boil the water away.

One flare will light the way home.

The End

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