The Ledge

He stands high up, on the ledge.
The climb leaving him breathless.
A glance to his right, clearly seeing
the crescent moon, escaping a cloud.

He steadies his breathing. Waits,
dares a look down, then averts his gaze,
as a wave of vertigo hits from nowhere.
He stills his heart again and laughs.

Why vertigo now? The plan is to fall.
The wrong time to panic
or to be fearing heights.
An irony, having made the climb.

Try as he might, he can’t help
but think of her.
How she looked at him
before she left. Nothing in her eyes.

Despite best efforts, his thoughts
remain there. Better times.
How she looked at him
for many years. Love in her eyes.

Despondency covers him ,
like a layer of dust and filth.
How could he have been
so incredibly stupid?

He’ll blame his vices.
He knows he overdoes it.
Though recognises it’s a
weak excuse for what was done.

Another glance downwards,
this time no issues.
The floor appears a dark void.
He wonders if he’ll see it coming.

He mentally apologises
to her, for the hurt caused.
Gets slowly to his feet.
Stands, wet palms against brick.

One deep breath and then....

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