i dreamt we were standing at the edge of a sheer cliff face, jutting out stern and cold against the early-autumn sky. you held my small hand tight in yours, much larger, covered in coarse hair and intricate callouses. you pulled me. and hard. my feet digging holes in the tightly packed dirt. i screamed for help but my screams were thrown to the wind, trailing off the edge of the cliff and out into the vast emptiness. watching my screams fall from view made me nauseous, dizzy. and you pulled, harder still.
you said it was your time to go. and that knowing the secret makes it my time too. so you pulled my small hand and it popped free from my weak morning wrist, and i contemplated screaming but the pain didn’t call for such. instead i kicked and i scratched and i bit and i pushed and i hated you so much i don’t know that you could have ever fully comprehended it. you stumbled, letting go of my hand, and i closed my eyes but you continued to call my name.
when i opened my eyes you were holding tight to the edge of the cliff, knuckles white and eyes red, you were begging me for help. dangling heavily over the grey abyss you asked for my forgiveness.
and i closed my eyes again, crying on the outside, but on the inside i kicked and i scratched and i bit and i pushed and i loved you so much i don’t know that you could have ever fully comprehended it.
when i opened my eyes you were gone.