close to the edge

no one knows what’s in my mind. no one even knows the real version of the story. everyday, I’m still thinking about the night that killed me. i’m dead but still bleeding? isn’t that strange?  everyday, i live in the hell of being stuck with that fucked up mind in a world that i don’t even want to live in. i’mstanding close to the edge wishing someone could finally push me. i’m afraid. still, i don’t want help. i just want to be free…