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...
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