I'm not suicidal.
I shake. My heart races.
Five feet of concrete is the only thing stopping my fall.
I have a choice: dive off the highest ledge to a never-ending drop,
Or step away and keep going.
Wind whips up over the edge, choking me.
The sun burns my skin.
A man-made cavern and a girl who just wants to see
What it feels like to finally be free.
Jump or save myself?
I'm not suicidal.
Standing on the edge of the world,
Tall rust-colored cliffs and blue waters sprawl
Across this valley in the desert.
Surrounded by people yet so alone,
Fighting a battle no one else can see.
I'm not suicidal.
YOU ARE READING
Little Poetry Projects
PoesiaWhen I was younger, I wrote a lot; mainly sad poetry and bad attempts at fanfiction. I met my first best friend on here. Before I took my first creative writing class, I hadn't written anything decent in a long time. Whenever I sat down in front of...
