Balancing on the edge,
barely standing on the ledge.
My body feeling top-heavy,
the free-fall seeming worthy.
I'm on this ledge alone
with nothing but the wind
to accompany my own
voice, thoughts and skin.
Gravity seems to hold me in place,
but I'd rather my anchor be a face,
a warm body instead of a cold breeze.
the warmth in my heart starts to freeze.
My bed's vaster than the ocean,
the space next to me's a desert
deprived of physical sensation.
my vision constantly blurred
By the water drowning me.
I want nothing more than to breathe
without the weight of loneliness
crushing me down into an abyss.
Tired of feeling lost in familiar scenes,
watching as love walks the other way.
I'm helplessly ripping at the seems,
can't someone hold me together, just for today?
The edge is slipping,
I'm losing my footing.
I just want somebody to die for,
all I need is a little bit more.
YOU ARE READING
A Series Of Events
PoetryI've found that I am most comfortable in discomfort and chaos, as opposed to serenity and happiness; probably because this broken part of me is all I've ever known. love, turmoil, desperation, infatuation, betrayal, death. these poems will contain...
