I don't usually write poetry, so when I do there should be rejoicing. And bonfires in the streets. "I am glad to the brink of fear." –Ralph Waldo Emerson Brink

There are many edges,

Ledges, and the metaphorical cliff

To fall from.

And now I think we've found one,

Because I am glad

To the brink of fear.

And although you claim

That letting go

Might not be so bad,

I think I'll stay here.

At the brink I remain,

Watching your form shrink

And disappear.

It's a long way down.