Every time I see a flight of stairs,
I feel the urge to throw myself down them,
To see if I would survive.
Standing atop a beautiful waterfall in Tennessee,
The wind picks up, and I stand, arms outstretched,
Listening.
There is a twinge in my mind.
“Jump…” something whispers.
“Jump…….”
But I don’t want to die.
“Jump…..”
For just a moment, I heard it.
L’appel du vide. L’appel du vide.
The Call Of The Void.
The Void, she beckons me nearer.
Cries out at night, still I can hear her.
“Jump….”
“Jump….”
She sings me sweet lullabies of death and destruction,
Tucks me into bed at night with a gentle, “I love you,
Jump….”
To feel gravity be powerless against the force that is me,
My hair flies up and becomes mangled in the wind.
I return to the state in which I always belonged.
This wild girl I hide
In the corners of my soul that I don’t show,
As I fall, I am healed.
Every bruise, every burn I’ve ever had is repaired.
As my feet collide with the ground, I hear the bones shatter.
And as the life fades out of me, she marks me with her brand.
Scrawls her signature across my back in my own blood.
L’appel du vide, it says. L’appel du vide.
I jolt awake, and come back alive as I brush off the dream,
I open my eyes once again to the whisper of The Void.
“Jump…..”
“Jump…”
“Jump!”
Perhaps one day she will leave me.
The Void will depart from me, beckoning no longer.
Or maybe, I will answer her.