the cold metal edge of a balcony high above the ground is the only thing I feel,
I grip the edge until my knuckles turn white,
and I look at the small town I live in, dim, but lit up by the bright moonlight,
I see the water of a nearby river rushing past,
and I see the ground, for it seems like a million miles away.
I think of the boy I once loved, how will he react to such a death?
we once stood in this exact spot only a few days later,
happy, he says on that day,
now i sit here,
depressed, I say on this night,
and as I think, a sudden movement and many lives can change,
what will become of him?
or, perhaps, my younger brother?
My mom?
My dad?
My friends?
I get up, and turn away from the ledge,
not today, I say on this night,
not today.
and I go home.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Poems
Poetryhey everyone it's your favorite emo here with her poems she tries to write late at night when she can't sleep, super depressed, or whatever. ****TRIGGER WARNING; BLOOD, SELF-HARM, SUICIDE.****
