The Edge

Photo by Marius Venter on

My gut tells me I shouldn’t hide these thoughts I’m having. But I’m afraid of what will happen if I tell.

The impulsive ideas, the strange desires and urges, the silly whims that we find ourselves sticking on. Like looking at a fuzzy blanket and wanting to stroke it. And it’s okay to touch it.

Squeezing a rubber ball. No-one questions that.

Doing the page fan thing-y with a paperback book cover to cover. People might turn at the sound, but they’ll smile at the novelty.

Popping bubble wrap. Satisfying.

The fascination with throwing a plate on the floor and seeing it break… stress relieving… isn’t it?

Poking your skin until it turns white then watching the blood rush back and flood red. That’s… just an observation of how the body works… right?

The strange feeling at the edge of a cliff, where you think about what it would be like to jump…

… but everyone wonders that. Don’t they? It doesn’t mean they’ll do it…

But if I talk about that one, the reactions are different.

So I don’t tell.

I still have the idea in my head. Swirling around… wondering, imagining.

But I daren’t tell.

It might sound like I’m being dramatic for attention. I’m just making up scary ideas to turn heads in my direction. But I’m not, this is a real thought in my head.

Or someone might get too worried and think I’ll actually go through with it. They could panic and lock me in a padded cell. But I’d never jump, I know it would kill me and I don’t truly want that.

I used to think the second outcome was worse. I’m starting to change my mind.

If I stand a the edge of a cliff, those who see me can react in different ways.

Some people get scared when they see me standing there. They think I’ll jump.

Others see that I’m standing still and haven’t jumped. They think I won’t.

My gut tells me I should let someone know when I have these thoughts. But if I know I won’t act on it, maybe I should just keep it to myself?

I don’t want to be the boy who cried wolf.

I don’t want to desensitise others.

Some people will need urgent care when they start talking about these things.

I don’t want to make light of such darkness.


A bit of moody poetry reflecting on hidden thoughts.

This is just a scenario in my head, not something I’m currently dealing with.


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