Love, Lana ✓

a torch song

She runs to the very edge of the rocks, jagged and crooked beneath her bare feet, scarring the bottoms; she does not mind, the hurt takes her mind off the greater ache in her chest, a kind of pain that can never be alleviated.

The soft whispers of wind carry the delicate tendrils of her hair away from her face so she can cry freely; she stands there, almost face to face with death itself, not afraid of something as trivial as heights when she has experienced something so much more horrifying, before.

She feels her wet cheeks shine in the sun, and when she opens her arms wide, wide open to catch all the drifting zephyrs, she breathes and feels, feels the effervescence of freedom; the slow smell of petrichor wraps itself around her, coiling around her freckled nose, her bruised jaw, her aching ribs.

Why?

She does not understand why.

The rivers on her cheeks have turned into small rivulets, so she opens her blue-gray eyes again and fills her lung with air as if she is drowning; she collapses heavily onto her knees and feels Sleep welcome her like a daughter to her mother, enveloping her in a silent but relieving embrace.

And before her dark lashes kiss her cheeks, she catches a final glimpse of the mountain view, and it is beautiful; it has always been breathtaking for her, and she is glad it is the last thing she sees before she leaves.

Someone says her name, behind her, but she does not notice, because she is sleeping, her heart finally tranquil, and her soul finally restful; her arms are still raised as she falls, forever falling, and she is not afraid — why should she be?

She is finally, finally leaving, escaping; everything she has ever loved is waiting for her on the other side, so she falls freely, and the tears are dried up like an empty river by the time she reaches the ground, and;

she is happy—

she is free—

she is brave.

—lana

note: I do not promote suicide in any way. You can interpret this any way, but I am not saying you should escape everything this way. Your decision is respected, but love your life and wait it out— suffering always has an end, even if it is brief.

i love you.