Standing Over the Edge

I'm standing over the edge taking my last breath...before I retreat back to safety, back to uncertainty Why am I hesitant, scared I said it, believed it, punctuated it decided to go through with it yet...I'm still here Why am I still alive... at the top of my lungs I shout "WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?!" Everyday I'm suffering, choking on apathy suffocating on insults and failed plans losing parts of me never to get back The longer I remain here, the longer pain wins but what else can I do when no relief can become of this what can be done when tactics prove futile and it proves easier to implode So teeter over the edge I must debating to take the fall so I spin around and slip back just to end it all asking for my guardian angel to not even break my... though it's my own hand through closed eyes that grabs another in protest... ...why am I still alive... The answer to my own question... I don't want to die...