I’m walking on the edge of the knife. Just waiting on the cuts to get deep enough. Waiting to see that first course of blood. That first sign. Waiting to see if I fall to either side. If the blade is sharp enough to end it or just sharp enough to cause more pain. More infection in my soul. More hopelessness. Waiting on someone to tell me to stop. But no one cares enough to tell me. No one cares enough to save me. So I keep walking….