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Poetry

The Push

She stood outside, the floor fifteen feet below her. She felt the drag. She almost slumbered.

She felt. She was. She was more than she would ever be. Having the attention of everyone in between. But it was not worth it. Why would it be, if she was not?

Stop tormenting me! She thought. Stop this vandalism of my truth! She screamed in pain.

Nothing she ever did could be compared to anything so simplistic as this, to give up life? What was she thinking? Why on earth would she throw herself fifteen feet off of a building? Why on earth would she do something like that?

She was furious. Furious with herself, but more so the world. How could the world be so cruel?

What did she, or did not do, to deserve this feeling? This void? This all-encompassing disgust?

Let me go.

Forgive me.

Set me free.

And she lived.

She forgave.

She let go.

She lived.

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