The Bridge

My toes are at the edge of the bridge.
My body’s shaking,
My mind is racing,
I tune them both out so I can hear if my heart wants me to go or to stay.
I bite my lip,
Take two steps back,
Then turn around and walk away.
My head was screaming yes,
But my heart was pleading no.
I guess it just wasn’t my time to go.

The next morning, I wake up.
I’m frustrated with myself for not taking that jump.
My body’s in one piece but my heart is beyond repair.
I’ve been in this inconsolable state for far too long.
For awhile, I actually believed the wounds would heal with time
But as time went on, they only grew deeper.
I’ve given up all hope.
This is my bitter life.
There’s not a thing I can do about it.

I drag myself out of bed and I trail to school.
I never dress attractively and I never wear makeup.
It always just ends up getting washed away in my tears of hopelessness.
I’ve given up on academics because there’s far too much else on my plate.
If I have no future,
Where are good grades going to get me anyways?
No one at school cares.
Why bother talking to them now?
Making friends would be useless
Since I’ll be dead in the end

When the bell rings to go home,
I head back to the bridge.
Maybe I’ll have the courage to jump today.
I didn’t bother saying farewell to anyone.
I’m nothing to the world.

Once again I’m standing at the edge of the bridge.
This is it.
I promise myself I’ll jump this time.
This is the last page of my story,
The final chapter of my pointless life
Momentum builds inside of me.
I’m seconds away from drastically taking my own life.

Then suddenly I hear music playing and I’m drawn away from the bridge.
I keep trying to approach the edge again,
But my legs won’t take me there.
I have no clue where I’m going,
I’ve lost all control of my body.
Maybe this wasn’t meant to be and it’s not my time to die.
My mouth opens and I began to sing uncontrollably.
The notes all come out right.
I didn’t know why this was happening to me.
I never knew I could sing.
Out of nowhere, a piece of paper levitated through the cold, January air and hit me right in the face.
The words, “Singing Is My Reason” were scribbled on the paper in red ink.
“What does this mean?” I spoke out loud to myself.
Then, it hit me.
I did have a purpose in this world.
My purpose was to sing.
I didn’t know how I could’ve been so oblivious all this time.

Years later, I thank my stars each day I didn’t jump off that bridge.
I never would’ve discovered this whole new world.
I have a purpose.
I have a talent.
And most importantly,
I have a reason.
Singing is my reason.