The Edge

I am standing on the edge right now,

On a border line, a hill, a cliffhanger,

On the verge of a free falling, plummeting doom,

In the excitement of terrorizing anger.

On the top of a sky shattering city building,

Listening to the musical sounds of honks and jets,

Ignoring the constant beggings of nos,

Because the wind and my mind is telling me yes,

Because I can see no fault or failure,

And your judgement and perspective is clumped,

My point of view is more fractured than broke,

So into ear splitting darkness, I’d rather jump.

But I don’t;

Because my need of satisfactory,

cries louder than my own screams and shouts,

and my constant search for excellence and perfection,

has cause my eye sockets to experience a drought.

I’m on the verge of an addiction,

Intoxicated by my own drunken emotions,

Drowning in and drinking from Lake weary,

An endless river that stretches into an ocean.

Tying myself to the cold metal train tracks,

Seems to be about the only way to survive,

Because I can’t take the steady flow of hands,

So I’d rather take the rope than to suffocate and die.

I locked myself in a cave of confusion,

One where no one will be able to get through,

To experience and find justice through endless anger,

Because I can’t trust you, you or you.

So I will trek up this mountain on my own,

And I’ll find my own way around,

So don’t look for me and don’t trace my steps,

Because without my treasure, I’ll never come back down.