falling

there are cracks

in the foundation

where she stands.

crumbling and

consuming her

problems as she

she stares out

at the fading sunset

and imagines her life

is the same way:

it's changing and beautiful

but disappearing

all to soon. she can't

decide if the sun is

willing to disappear

or if it's forced to.

if the sun pleads and

implores to stay

but the moon

casts it away,

or if the sun is tired of

being the light

in our world

and wishes we'd

leave it alone

to burn out.

she's come to find

people are committing suicide

either when everything's dark

or when a new day

is on the rise.

she would rather

have one last taste

of the sun's rays

caressing her face

before she decided

to completely

fade away.

she didn't want to leave

while surrounded by

darkness; her life's

like that as it is.

now some say it's a

fitting time to die

when the sun is

returning. a sign of

a new beginning

and of new life,

but she couldn't say

there would be a life

to start after this one.

her life doesn't

give her much hope

for another one anyway.

she just wants peace.

she wants full breaths

that don't feel like

violent threats

and suppressed memories.

she inhales the

city air: it's still warm

from the sun's charity,

and she embraces

this newly found

warmth.

she knows it's now or never.

she wants the sun and her

to fall together. she wants

to hold the sun's hands

as she falls into

what could be.

the closest thing

to love and intimacy

she's ever been,

or ever will be.

maybe the sun will

pick up her spirit

and cradle it

until they burn out

and consume our neighboring

planets in a wisp

of white,

blinding heat.

maybe everyone else

is wrong: what about any of this

is defeat?