It is that feeling again,
It is like being on that edged hold,
The rock cutting into your flesh
And the last solid saviour is six meters down.
You are on heaven's precipice.
It kills you to stay but you won't let go;
Better to die smashing all below you
Than to avoid pain.
Better to slash open your heart
And give it to the sky, thinking
There must me a star there that wants you.
Blood can't hold heart,
Muscles can't hold life
So you become best friends with Virgil.
October 24, 2007