One true beauty of my generation told me she was drawn to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. These chilly words juxtaposed the cloudless, bright day.
Beauty stood quietly, and I saw myself in her.
I felt the wetness on my own face, and for a moment was confused by the blue eyes.
I saw her body in my dress: curvaceous, sincere, and unsure.
The pain in my face was hers as was the fear.
This girl has no seemingly valid reason to hold onto fear
This only makes the situation worse.
In her head were thoughts of self-disgust; something awful filled her heart and echoed in my head.
Scared that she will never reach that for which she is capable.
Upset she is not living up to her own convictions.
The siren sits silently, peering out over the glistening water holding up white sail boats.
I sit puzzled next to her, staring at myself.
I feel alive just knowing that our lungs are sharing the fresh air
While our heart beats simultaneously, carrying cautiously rushing blood through our body
Sustaining one another.