Deep blackness recedes
A shake of the head, droplets fall. I almost fell in, almost died almost lost it all. Suicide of the heart. The edge pulled, not beckoning more threatening. Was enveloping with nails caressing. How did I get here? Is this my beautiful death? Was that my beautiful love? Fog thick choking refusing air. Pain, doubly doubling over. A scream--was that me? Can I make sounds like that? Shuddering squeeze; no relief. Then light sparks unexpectedly. This can't be: I live? Light's golden glow giving fog shape, form, words. Words bringing me back from the edge? No, the scream. The ripping of my gut/heart/life. I did this. I almost killed it without looking, knowing. Ashes drop, flames recede, cool air lifts my eyes. This pain friend forges anew, steel steaming as it cools. A thumb on the honed edge reminds of the edge, the deep eternal failure of regret. For now, at arm's length, but waiting.
The abyss is my friend, failure my savior:
"One hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the most skillful. Seizing the enemy without fighting is the most skillful." --Sun Tzu
I will not fight, I will bring my enemy my self closer. Knowing is the trigger. I am lifted, scarred not scared. Fear drove the wind through me and I felt its chilling despair. Smile.