The thing you don't expect about jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge
is the silence ---
the rush of wind and cold are incidental, really,
easy to ignore
compared to the solitude available only
when suspended in an unlivable medium,
however momentarily.
The water is not soft -- much better
to imagine it as a blue block of glass,
ready to shatter pane after pane up over you.
But the sound,
the sound of the secrets it whispers
before it plugs your ears with its cold clear fingers
is, yes, quite silent.
2.12.09
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This is a great title/first line/theme. I like it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Brianna. The first line was what made me want to write it in the first place, and may be my favorite part.
ReplyDeleteNB: I am in no way, nor have I ever been, planning on finding out the veracity of this poem through personal experience.
Dude. Like how do you write such good poems. Freaking mindblowing my mind all the freaking time.
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