I Stood On the Bridge and Waited

I stood on the bridge and waited

for all of it. For everything I had created

to grab me; to reach up out of the sea

and gift to me my apogee.

I dont know why I'm here.

On this bridge, close to tears.

Exhausted in every damned way.

Exhausted like I am every day.

I sob when I realise I have no fear

of the hundred-foot drop down to being okay.

All i do is float. Float through life,

float through each day, each strife,

floating through it all like a balloon.

Soon. But it's already noon

and I'm stood on the bridge having not yet moved.

I'd arrived after waking, deeply confused:

Confused at my abusers, I'd counted every bruise.

One from a flying fist swung by my Dad.

Another from my Mother. She was just mad.

Puffy eyes from an ex lover.

Yet I'd never cried for him. Not ever.

Then a bruised heart from my soulmate.

She left me. No love for me anymore, only hatred.

And that's me checkmated.

Now, my frustrations never to be sated,

I stood on the bridge and waited.

Floating still. Floating like a ghost

who wanted nothing more than love.

Love never to be obtained.

I stood on the bridge and waited.

Nauseated yet oddly liberated.

As the sea did finally grab me by my throat.

Now, all I can do is float.