A/N: Yet another one of my crappy poems. I thought it up while thinking about something that happened to me about two months ago. Enjoy!

Inching

Some people don't know when to stop.

A simple joke can mean the world

To someone who's life is riding on a knife-edge.

I've held on as long as I can, no thanks to you

Now you shove me into that blackness.

Inching ever closer to the point of no return.

That one last word

Could send me over the edge.

You tell me to keep walking, then you drive me down,

Forget you, I'm ending this.

I'm sick of life

It's a hellhole already

You just made it worse.

Shut up for one damn moment.

We'll see if I make it through.

I wake up every morning,

Regretting that I did.

Maybe I should end it all…

I'm riding that knife-edge, things going alright,

Then you come along and shove me off.

Inching ever closer to the point of no return.

That one last word

Could send me over the edge.

You tell me to keep walking,

But it's too late for you.

A/N: Yeah, I'm insane. Flames welcome.