The View from a Cliff

Intimate
spacing stasis,
phalanges spread.
Falling through the cracks in the concrete.
Eight hours 'til I'm free.
---
Fat subsiding under a skin so scarred,
it would make a war-torn city
seem unbelievably immaculate.
---
Yearning to be borne upon the wind,
in defiance of gravity, and
society's limits,
you jumped off the cliff,
trusting your ecstasy-enhanced mind,
and testing you imagination.
Falling, your disbelief
consumed you to your core,
desensitizing you to the crash.
In the end, we all die alone.
Obstrused from all those around us.
Solitary in a crowd.
---
Disciplinary techniques
encased in a box
you never meant to open,
teach you
that love is hard:
not a cushion for you
to land on, but
the devil that pushed you in the
first place.
A thorny blanket
a goddess of bloody tears
wraps around you,
singing you to
an eternal dreamless slumber
with honey-laced words
of destruction.
---
The cessation
of your breathing,
the blood flowing through
your rotting veins,
perplexes you.
As a rule, you are immortal,
until you are defeated.
And conquest came on
the wings of a solitary dove.
For we all die alone.