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Description
she's a ghost of a girl in the mirror. dark hair tangles like weeds below her shoulders and cuts at grey eyes. harsh shadows don't leave her with a skeleton like she sometimes hopes, but she feels it in her mind. feels the sharp edges and the trembled fragility, the silent cry for another's flesh and that outward plea of don't break me. cold fingers make love to cold glass while the sky cries over and over for sun.

this afternoon death made to kiss her lips but missed. he'd come so close she now knows what nothing doesn't feel like and she cannot fear it. it's a blankness so removed from consciousness she cannot reach it with thought- but she had drowned in it and forever the extent of nothingness will stay with her. she shivers. she is wet, she is cold, but she breathes. hear her breathe, louder now than the wind outside.

the rain had witnessed them; two friends walking beneath an vast umbrella. legs bare and teeth bare in laughter. the rainclouds had swollen with envy, coughing and spluttering and gushing rainwater. above, beside, below the bridge. concrete beneath thick moss beneath the rush of rainwater beside the bridge had ushered her with a chhshhhh of water tumbling after water. and she had come with heavy feet light in her mind while the rainwater still called her forward, painting upon her a notion of coolness against her ankles as she ran. but it had lied, the ground had disappeared suddenly beneath her and she came crashing. time slowed and she felt air struggle to hold her upright until the deafening thunder in her head (concrete throwing itself at her) brought the
nothing
for a while
and then grey light again, blue dress at her waist, overexposed but she is in knots of herself, tasting stale moss and dirty water. thighs scratched, elbows grazed with red trickling down white forearms and a banging in her mind. she lies near jutting concrete out to pierce her had she fallen closer.

her angel has kept her from drowning and she lies beside her in the almost grave almost crying. she is beautiful, the broken girl thinks. she had fallen too and if she had fallen the same way they'd both had drowned beautifully and alone with one another. the world would have mourned but atleast they'd be together ever after. the angel murmurs, the girl reaches to the heat at her head and gasps, her head reaches her fingers much before it should and she fits her entire hand around the throbbing growth.

they lay in the rush of rainwater unfeeling before crawling upward, homeward.

hear her breathe. because for a moment there you couldn't.