The Edge

A long time wandering down a road, Wondering where I should go. With my first step, I trip and fall, Until I am nothing left at all. The ladder is broken and drifts to the side. I’m holding on tight, not wanting to die, But how can I live when I’m being starved, Suffocated with the thought of self-harm? I feel like my body is vacant and dead, Like there is nothing of myself left. Just a body whose fight is gone, Slowly accepting that life won’t go on. There is a small way to get away from the pain, A way to ensure that never again Will the voices hold back my only breath, One thing that I hope, is they will end with my death.