by Pete Rapp
Skin and bones reaches the cliff top;
The wind makes it difficult to stand.
Skin and bones reaches a sheer drop;
The aim is a line, drawn in the sand.
But there’s no yelling up here
Only screaming, blinding quiet.
The pounding of the very thoughts
Against the inside of the skull
Is enough to rival any breaking wave.
The piece of you that keeps on running
Like a madman with a gun
And all that’s in the chamber is your mind and your fire
Until he gets to an impasse
And shoots himself in the foot.
Skin and bones reaches the cliff top;
Time to take your head from your hands.
Skin and bones reaches a sheer drop;
This is no jump - was there ever a plan?
N.B // the title is pronounced the same as “anatomy”, but instead of a hard ”t-” sound, it’s a soft “th-” sound, as in “the”.
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