Jagged Edges

I often see you falling into the depths of that silly word, made to torment and pleasure, catching us and squeezing until there is nothing left, the snake with its prey Love how deceiving it can be. Your deliberate steps toward that jagged edge, bare foot and bleeding, I know that I must brace myself. So high as you imagine your whole world centered on him whichever him it is this time. Like a drug you crave I know I should not let you go, but yet I can’t stop myself from giving you the needle, I might as well be piercing your cold white skin myself, marking you yet knowing that reality needs to be set. How can I not when I have seen you crumple in fear and die within yourself over and over? How can I not when after so many falls you keep picking yourself up again and somehow finding a way to move on? How can I ignore your scars, your pleas for reassurance of this new conquest? You are my sister; we have shared lives and secrets so deep within ourselves that we thought we’d never resurface. I know your deepest fears and sorrows, those moments of pain I was always there. And now I see another climax in the turbulence of the life you’ve chosen. I see the signs all over again and I know that the chances are few and more often than not love is killed in the battle. And yet I can not tell you so. I can not cut you down when you have made it so high, each branch you climb steeper than the rest. I wish I could spare you of the sorrows and inevitable sting when we clean the wounds. Still I find myself standing numb as you approach that edge, shouting under my breath as I struggle to keep you safe, yet still unmovable, this paralysis proving to be my ultimate downfall. But when the ground comes rushing up, the body raw and broken, we will pick up the pieces of your mind and soul, together no matter how many cliffs we summit.