when you're on the window ledge of life people tell you go see a psychiatrist (get yourself some therapy) I've been here a while haven't drawn a crowd yet but people are starting to notice (I'm pretty unobtrusive) even my own mother didn't recognise me once (she's part of the problem) but that's another story as I say been here a while and I'm starting to enjoy the view if you don't look down where all the problems are but take in the horizon crazy isn't a bad place to be I see sunsets flocks of birds cloud formations moon phases starting to go ancient man brain starting to cure myself all that **** below me doesn't matter the cars, the people, the noise pollution, war, ****** I've started to make the ledge my home moving in I can jump any time I want but find myself needing another sunrise blinding light of today gradually illuminating a world that really doesn't deserve it people want me to get therapy so I can live in a crazy world how does that make any kind of sense
In that kind of mood When ledges look beautiful One jump, So far down
Looking down, its exhilarating. Heart beating so fast, as if its crying out begging me to hear that im still alive. That I can go on. Tell me when you jumped, was it everything you imagined. That amazing feeling, of fear, happiness, freedom, release. Sigh, i just wish I could go back in time I just want to talk with you. I miss you
Withered through these relinquished lips, softly lays an embellished, embroidered, carcass. Torn across flesh-like soil caressing gently into this impermeable being, you're only human.
So allowing in the presence of indigenous, oblique thoughts slanting into the belly never feeling so bare the hunger deprives. The nails of your eyes piercing into the forefront of mush you call a brain, feeling the earth distinctively tremble with each step you chase closer to the ledge
Clutching onto the white knuckle breast your hands pounding at your fingertips its electric running through your veins feeling it at the core so helplessly, lost.
Your throat knots into one-thousand splinters splicing relentlessly between your core the wedge of your mortal body becomes noticeable to your soul detaching, jumping.
Slithering one step closer, pull the rope you leap you rot
one more inch closer, you can feel it separating your surroundings from comfort ability picking up between each breath shaking at your own wake.
there you have it at the brim of the edge you've push yourself this close whats one last jump out of this skin?
Soft hands idling quietly by snatching remnants of credibility its cloak opaque to reflection you grasp its hand, like a double-edged sword you hold on tight wisping away into the night never to be seen again.
The walls are dark and the smell is repugnant death on its tongue Decay in the teeth. Smiling back as if a fun-house of mirrors dubious, distorted, distraught you hold on.
Cradling the noose like a new mother to its child you gawk, admire, and dream Of a darkness to bring you closer to the ledge. Gently pushing formidable bounds released to self-indulgence you're alone.
As the world around you lights up only by screens and reacts only by the ping of self-admiration. A ghost among the blinded walking slowly by as everything is in full speed. Stuck in a repetitive loneliness damnation of socialization pity. pity. pity.
Pulling onto the strings of darkness puppeting along madness mastering hell as its vibrant and claw full of disappointment you sit on the outside of the world watching it comfortable in its cage.