The minute

By paula robles nettel

 

Hey you…

Before you jump from that bridge

into the cold and hard waters

or point a gun into your temple

blinding pain destroying your greatness.

Before you hug your neck with a rope

longing for arms that could carry you

into the minute that could save you.

Before you destroy yourself in any way possible,

look at me the stranger next to you

or me your real or social media friend.

Here are my arms, you can borrow them,

They will embrace you, you are tired

They will warm you, I know you are cold

I will listen to your silence or your crying,

I know you are ashamed and empty of it all.

I shall not speak about the beauty of life, not now.

Just let me try to be a cushion

between you and the hard cold ground.

I’ll stay down there with you in your darkness

until the air comes back into your lungs,

all you need is to breathe again

breathe in and breathe out,

breathe in and breathe out,

then my hand will gently start 

pulling you up to your feet, but you must make an effort too,

let's walk away a tiny bit from the darkness

the path is unclear and scary I know, but trust me

there are others who can help us,

there are paths, many paths but this one.

There is hope in the single minute.