// the edge //

" the edge - there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over"

The edge. The edge of a mountain face. The edge of a twelve story building. The edge of a shared intimate climax. The edge of a swing - moving so high it feels as though one can touch the clouds. The edge.

Epinephrine. Time ceases to exist and the only thing audible is the quickening beat of one's heart. As if one's eyes have opened - opened to the beauty of light as though a newborn was being brought into the world for the first time. A breeze rustles down one's spine, bringing forth all the emotions pitted throughout. Rib-cage expands, rib-cage deflates - all to the beat of one's heart.

Emptiness, cloudless, quiet. The commotion of deafening thoughts halts. Tranquility.

The raging war within one has reached understanding - understanding that peace must be held for this brief period of time, understanding that if it is not - the war may completely engulf it's victim. The white flag has been flown.

Bliss. Euphoria. Exhilaration. Addiction.

This high - is not experienced through the jab of a needle nor the whiff of smoke. This high - this is the high , the one that keeps you alive, the one that keeps you sane. Rib-cage expands, rib-cage deflates.