The Ledge

My legs are dangling off the edge
The bottom of the bottle is my only friend
I think I’ll slit my wrists again
And I’m gone, gone, gone gone…

~*~

Teetering dither like a flimsy seesaw at the edge

Of the open skyscraper’s pewter concrete ledge

Gazing hazily past the hundreds of miles below

An amiable breeze nudging me softly as it blows

.

The open horizon’s colliding apricot and violet

A marvellous sight of the enlightening sunset

Quite the teasing vision of faithful life’s vitality

Akin an ironic requiem of the last sight I’ll see

.

Teetering unsurely like a vacillating scale at the edge

Of my final standing ovation upon the concrete ledge

If the gale heaves violently, and pressure’s more than I can take

Do I have to take the long fall simply just to catch a short break?

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