life's dusk

on this vacant bridge, i stand. below me, water rushes off to some distant destination. i wonder if the white water feels anything if it feels the need so form of love for where it is flowing. is it rushing toward something that is loves, or away from something that it once did. it weeps and screams s it makes its way, so hurridly movng toward the spot hidden by the setting sun.


i wonder if i am going to be as happy when i get there. so many thoughts flood my mind. i wonder if the tears that fall from my eyes are different from the water in the raging river. i wonder if my tears ill be welcomed, gathered up by the furious liquid below. will my lonely tears be taken up and cared for, or will they, coming from me be rejected. they are some part of me. i exist w/n them and they hold me.
..
some gravel under my bare feet grind into the steel ledge as i adjust my hold on the guard rail. i wonder if the gaurd rail will be upset? i wonder if it will feel that it fail to do what it was made for: gaurding. i imagine that it is calling out w/ all its being for me to climb back onto the other side. will it be torn down if i were to jump? torn down, rendered useless. taken out of existance for my selfish want to no longer exist. i feel remorse for the gaurd rail.


i think of the wind. what the wind must feel, as it pushes against my back. daring me to jump. to try and fly. i can almost hear it in the gusts. in whispered, hushed tones telling to spread my arms and fly. the wind must be so used to killing. i wnder if the wind takes special attention to killing just one person, instead of eatting homes and obliterating families. if the wind is excited to be able to observe the downfall of one, singular soul. it seems to run its fingers through my hair, pushing against my entire body, like a partner too close. i wonder if the wind loves me.


the sun has almost completely fallen now. only the last remains of its red and purple light hovers above the horizon. i take it as a count down, as the sun dies and the night is born once more. i wonder if the sun examines the world as it slowly dies. does it look around and say its goodbyes to the water and the guard rails and the wind. is the sun watching me, knowing we will both be soon gone from this world. does the sun feel my pain? after all the times i have cursed its light, does it still love me?


the last beacon of firey purple disappears. i hold my breath, smile and look up at the stars. perfectly content.