A Few Feet Off The Ground

A Few Feet Off The Ground
by
Keaton Foster

"The weight of who I am and what I have become will be quite enough."

Here I am, a few feet off the ground. All around life is doing what it must to survive. I am here doing something quite different. I do not intend to live another suck filled day of this existence.

Inside me is nothing, as it has always been it is doing what it must. Screaming to be defined through the likes of me. A wanting display of all that is, and all that I am about to become.

The vibrant colors of a world thought possible have all but faded away. Long before this terrible day, and long before this place I have been devoid of all that once made me a most human of being.

This has always been just a matter of time. An effect to a cause that happened decades ago. I was born into this, fate defined by the hands of others. A darkness that has refused to relent has brought me to this place.

Such an auspicious height of great depths.

It is certainly lonely up here. However, it is far more terrifying down there.
In time, the stench of my rotting flesh will alert others. I will be found and cut down. Only then will they will hear my silent cry to be set free, to be buried deep beneath.

They will understand the crux of who I am and of what I have become. They will come to understand the why of such a terrible thing.

My heart races inside my chest, just another pointless attempt at forcing me to feel alive even though I am certainly dead inside. Stubborn to the plight of life, it will not easily relent. It will beat until the very end.

My brain has begun to distort the images I see and the memories it bleeds. A pathetic attempt. A cleaver ploy at trying to avoid the obvious nature of the situation. Displaced reality, set aside for all to see but me.

I am past the point of pain. Moments away from death the rest of my body has begun to betray the remaining life within me. A caustic cascade of numbness races through my being. Burning me from within with an eerie feeling that I am quickly beginning to regret.

Before I die, before all of the remaining life in me expires a simple childhood memory fills my mind, in an instant I see myself being defined.

Such a hellish definition.

I remember all that was done to me in my lifetime of hell. I feel it just as it was even though I am far past numb.

Maybe it is life's way of saying that I am done?

Just as quickly, everything fades away. I find myself back to the place in which I am trying to escape. Such irony will not go to waste.

A few feet off the ground is where I will be found. I will be cut down and laid to rest in the cold, relentless ground.

Certainly a few nice things will be said. A few kind strangers will speak for me. They will have little to say, and even less to convey.

The world will go on as it has, and I certainly will not…





A Few Feet off The Ground by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2011