Edge of the World

Edge of the World

I run to the end of the world, where the water runs really cold and heavy and fast and sad, where it cripples and ripples and makes crisp sound in your ears and takes your reality away. I run and run until my feet breaks the beach sand and kicks the saltwater, and then I shout and shout and shout till I do not want to say and think and feel anything anymore. Until I’m tired and fall on my back beneath the cotton candy sky, and my eyes looking up to the sky, at the edge of the world. And nobody is there. And NOBODY ELSE is there. So I start laughing until I’m scared that I have really gone crazy out of my will, and I toss my hand in the air and wave the clouds goodbye, for they’re heading South, to shine elsewhere, to protect somebody else, to go home. And then I laugh still to tell myself that this is home. This is my home. So I say to the clouds to go home, and visit me only when they can’t contain the excruciation of not protecting me. And I hush them away with my hand, so they slowly slide and get carried away to where they belong. And I stay where I belong. Forever.


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