The Bets of Seagulls

The ultraviolet spectrum bewitched  
my perception supernatural,    
allowing me to evade the ethereal    
that always followed, wide eyes warning.  
Then I was running, eternal galaxies  
slipping away behind and in front  
of my foreseen footsteps.     
   
Thundering waves invaded the shore,    
frothing bloodless rage at the mouth.    
Seagulls circled darkening skies,    
calling out their bets (Will she jump?).    
'Negative thoughts' was played by Suicidal  
upon a cerebral broken record.    
   
Rhythmic feet pounded trodden earth,  
arms flung open daringly wide;    
storms of denied truth struck with fact,  
lightning javelins slicing me in two.  
Defying gravitational expectations,  
desperation lifted my body to  
foreign heights.  
   
The ledge came as a blessing unexpected.  
I crumpled, mouth gaping wide for    
words unsaid and actions unfinished.  
The wind swallowing my screams.  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
For the 'One Memory' competition.  
"Write a poem or short prose on any    
vivid memory you have."