We have been hanging off the edge of this cliff
and love isn't strong enough to keep us holding on,
the more my hands yearn for your embrace
the closer we get to the ground.
I see safety in your eyes
and an universe in your smile-
I wish you could see all the things that I do.
The edge is getting sharp again-
I'm the only one holding on.
You crawled your way up and looked down at me,
contemplated if you wanted to be the one that saves us.
But my voice keeps incessantly shouting "pls save me"
all the while you try but I keep telling you more effective ways
so you shout back "save yourself" and walked away.  
You are tired of being the muse I spill my paint upon
the therapist in the chair I spill my heart out to.
I have made many mistakes
and this anxiety keeps me on the edge waiting-
waiting for someone to save me because I am too weak.
Some days I can almost pull myself up,
my feet feel friction upon the rocks and continue on-
but as soon as I get high enough to feel the wind upon my cheeks
the same wind knocks me down again-
telling me ways I should try again
convincing me, it's my only friend.

My limbs have grown tired from hanging on-
yours have grown tired too.
You ache from carrying my weight upon your shoulders
time after time again.
I try to help by pushing myself up
honing in all my strength one last time
but I stumble and my foot falls from under me-
I subsequently drag you down with me
and all I wanted to hear from you is
"there's no place else I'd rather be"
but how would that be any consolation
if we're both falling, broken and vacant?
I finally let go and fell to my fate-
I see you looking down at me
I guess love can't fix everything.