The Fall

I stand atop my hill,
Though not triumphantly.
I stand.
I await.
I await a battle that always comes, but seems impossible to win.
The battle begins, slowly at first.
A harsh word,
Stare,
Or sometimes it only takes a silence to cause me to slide down my hill.
But I fight, and I struggle to regain the top.
I claw and bite and kick.
Anything to keep me from sliding backwards into the dark abyss.
But I don’t win.
By the end of the day every step forward I’ve taken, I’ve fallen back three.
Before long I’ve assumed a continual descent.
Not quietly though.
I grab for every branch, no matter how small.
I scream for help.
Yet nobody hears me. The branches eventually break.
Quickly my descent becomes more and more rapid,
Until the hill is gone.
I fall backwards screaming and kicking into my own dark abyss.
Suddenly I hit the bottom with all the force of a cosmic explosion that no one feels but me.
I weep uncontrollably.
I curl myself into a ball and weep for no reason.
When I am through, I fall into a slumber greater than that of the Beauty.
Slowly I feel myself lifted, as if on a heavenly cloud escorted by a band of angels.
They lift me heaven-ward and deposit me back on my hill.
Where I will awake, once more, to fight my demons.

The Recovery

I stand upon my hill.
I fell like every time before,
But this time I did not fight.
I did not struggle.
I did not claw, bite and kick.
I allowed the branches to whiz by,
And I allowed the silence to remain untouched by my screams.
By not fighting I finally won the battle.
I learned something,
My demons inhabited the corners of my mind, and my mind alone.
By denying the fight they had grown to cherish, I denied their existence,
And they disappeared.
When I hit the bottom, it was with a whimper.
However, this time I did not curl up and weep.
I did not give in to the peaceful slumber.
I got up and sent the angels back from where they came.
I got up and climbed,
Hand over hand.
Every slip renewed my strength and conviction that I was going to reach the top.
This time on my own terms.
Exhausted, battered and bruised I reached the peak as the fiery sun crested the ridge.
But I did not need the sun.
For the power that was granted to me through victory out shown even the brightest star.
I finally stood atop my hill, triumphant.
Weary, but too proud to sleep.