Not the poem I thought was the best poem ever

I seek in silence with unfocused eye find whistles and pips and passage of time step off ledges into unbridled space no corners to turn, I face my own face liminal with a stripped bare mind no safety nets or friendly guides won't cover my back or stand on guard enter at own risk, no holds barred lost in thought, solace the goal risks are clear, I'm no friend of my own attacks just as likely as settled state in hostile territory, no benefit to equate is it empty, the space I pull threads will I unravel or reveal instead each just as likely as I enter the zone where I'm not quite gone, not quite home just like now, it's on the tip of my tongue all the things I'll never know trip along like chewed gristle I try to read like a book hang myself willingly right on the hook so the time slips away I spend in my head swap daylight, for lamplight, lamplight for dread equally likely to be soothed or destroyed as I willingly walk straight into the void I don't finish the poem or my spiel I'm so apologetic that I'm even real Just stare into space not pulling my weight just a half hatched plan with a misaligned fate