Dark and dour nights seem
to mend and heal aching souls.
Such as mine, of course.

Recent rain. Wet concrete.
I splish-splash straight to nowhere
down a shadowed street.

Thoughts of turmoil
accompany me with joy.
Oh, dear God, help me.

Those haunted whispers-
tormenting broken down hearts,
scolding every move.

Approaching my doom
a sense of relief washes
over my body.

Like a heavy sheet,
I am encompassed by warmth.
“Hold on to it tight”.

Roaring rivers rush
under cracked perceptions,
along with split streets.

If only they’d stop
to save the hope-less girl
on the bridge.

Looking down the edge,
toes just hanging off the ledge,
I will soon be free.

All the nasty scars,
all the tenacious demons,
lead me to today.

One leap of faith to
release the building sorrow-
¨Just need to let go.¨

Free-falling is bliss.
Frigid winds are like kisses.
Sirens are music.

The murky waters
toss me around like a doll.
Cold currents chill bones.

I most gladly let
oblivion take my soul
straight to the heavens.