Standing on the edge

I look down, standing on the edge.
With cool breeze brushing my skin,
I close my eyes and clear my mind.

I lift up my arms from my sides.
With body shaped like a ‘T’,
I breathe in deep.

My senses heightened.
The sweet smell of flowers,
and waves crashing consume me.

I raise onto my toes.
Butterflies form in my stomach,
my nerves begin to swarm, and I wait.

I open my eyes to the ground below me.
I can finally see clearly,
this world is for me.

I rest my heels firmly on the ground.
My body relaxes,
my nerves slow down.

I struggle to step back.
My mind urges me to stay,
but my heart fights me from the edge.

I am safe again.
I will live to see another day.



*Note: the "I" in this poem is not me. Although this can be interpreted as thoughts of suicide, these thoughts are not my own.

*Note: Visit One Stop - Where Poets and Writers Meet and their One Shot Wednesday for poems & stories from others.
_