Tw for a suicide attempt and vague descriptions of dissociation. Take care of yourselves!
His feet barely touch the silky ground.
His eyes are half-lidded, yet he sees everything clearly.
He is above the world, the buildings beneath like a faint shadow of society.
His face is wet, and he isn't sure whether it's rain or tears. Perhaps it is both. Perhaps it is neither.
He raises a shaking hand, seeing the foreign red liquid staining his fingers. He knows a similar splatter adorns his chest, his neck. Among the horrid places he used to embrace.
He remembers his ninpo, but forgets how he's blocked it. He was making sure of something; it was important, he knows that.
His mouth pulls in ways it hasn't in a long, long time. Another foreign thing for him. He knows he did this often, once.
The creases of his lips pull against the foreign wet and mix with the taste of something. His face is upturned, his spirit yearns to go higher. Higher. Up and away from his own body.
The body he inhibits takes a step forward. The ground loses its silk, turning to loose gravel. This isn't the right way, but he already wants to go further. There's something bright he's chasing, something beyond the sky.
He wants to be free. Free from the object in his head, free from the words they've all said.
He's soared before, but this time's different. That's why he holds the trembling paper, that's why he can feel the ground.
By his deathbed, he places a pile of objects that once held meaning. Things he barely recognizes, would not at all if not for the glints they held. The familiar handle. The electronic square. The comforting cloth.
They're all laid in a pattern he might have appreciated in a different time. A different day, a different place. Different.
His body unfurls, but when had it bent? His face is turned, but why is he looking? Perhaps it is to appreciate the lasting beauty of the world. But what beauty? All he sees is a man-made expanse of metal and glass.
Wait; there's a circle he's looking at. Directly into the ball of light, he turns his gaze. His mind is clear now, this is his fate. He recognizes his smile now. It is true. It is his. It is him.
He floats toward the sun, body leaving the restricting ground. He sees his tears falling upwards before he removes his sight forever.
For one final time, he loves.