(TW: Self-Harm and Suicidal Ideation)

If you could see into the riot that is my mind
You would not begrudge me my knife
You would not withhold from me the ledge
Which I only cling to for your sake
Unsure if letting go would help or harm you
I’ve read the statistics
Would my departure bring about your ruin?
Or am I truly the baggage you are forced to carry
The burden you bear out of a sense of obligation
So I stay, forever uncertain
Indecision is not a comfort that is granted me