Rage, rage against the Dying of the Light, A Prequel to JUMP

Dylan Thomas once said, ‘rage, rage against the dying of the light,’ but I don’t think he ever comprehended the futility of it all. You take one step and then three backwards. You try hard, but never hard enough. You start the walk but boulders bring you down. Letter form words, words form sentences, sentences form paragraph, paragraphs form stories and stories form life. In this cycle, the pain required to form those words go unnoticed, the fear that pushed the sentences are forgotten, the disgust at oneself that determines the paragraphs are never acknowledged and the heartache that forms the stories are never ever realised. He said he would be there through all the heartache and the pain, I promised him I would stand by him throughout his days of pain. He let go for she in the white dress. Starched crisp, unstained and light as a feather, he fell of her and she for him. I watched from the corner, in my stained dress of black, happy yet sad for I thought I had gained but instead I lost what I already had. He was my standing pillar, the bricks not yet cemented. It toppled over with the first kiss, the midnight air bringing the cold within me. I thought that he would put down his arms and envelop me as I had for him but instead all I got was a cold sheet of ice draped upon me by trust and defiance. My heart broke in two, not for a lover but a friend who had taken and taken and taken but when I needed him to give back, he was not there. Monsters are meant to be the ones who scare, who put fear into peoples hearts and kill their dreams. But the monsters are inside us, pulling at our flesh and even though we fight, these monsters leak out in every teardrop, in every sorrowful laugh. I feel my monster coming, with each drop of water that falls from my eyes. I cannot rage anymore for I have no reason to fight. The monster comes, hide in plain sight for monsters search for the weak but never for those in plain sight. The monster comes, I feel her claws inside me tearing me heart into pieces. The monster comes, run I tell myself but she is already here. She whispers in my ear, ‘jump’.