5/31/11

Hesitance and Apprehension
By Rachel Rubinstein


On the edge
she stands and curls her toes over.
The crisp breeze penetrates her thin dress
that floats in the wind along with her thoughts .
gray skies match her emotions.
She inches back towards the past,
while the future overtakes her, beckons to her
from its depths.
Retrospect plays over and over in hear head,
a silent, colorless film.
Would she remake it if she could?
Clouds of trepidation loom on a distant horizon.
She again feels the pull and promise of impending bliss.
The young girl cannot make sense of conflicting ideas.
The too-close cliff invites her even closer.
An intimate run in with self against fate, she sits,
her feet precariously hanging over.
To jump would be simple.
She would slip away, new stories, new memories.
Right before the plunge into the future,
her past pushes her back with impeccable force.
The two opposites take their turns with the girl
then throw her back, limp and damaged.
She is left somewhere in the middle, inches away
from the boundary and the open space
empty, sobbing.
The sky turns dark but she does not budge.
Her breathing calms but she is not relaxed.
The girl wraps her arms around herself.
The breeze still blows but does not affect her now.
Opposing forces sway her
until she’s no longer near the edge or the open.
suspended in limbo,
waiting to break free.


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I'm a high school girl still new to figuring out life and love. I'm a hopeless romantic that believes in the sanctity of passion and emotion. My journal is my safe haven, and I write what I cannot say out loud. My best ideas come to me when I'm running or when I need to get something off my chest. One day, I'd love to have something of mine published.