Hovering off the edge-

The darkness is screaming
And the silence of space
Is making your ears pulse
And stomach sick
From the danger.

You step off.

Oh the danger.

The throbbing, gaping
Pulse of anxiety weaving
Through your dilated veins.

The second you leave
The platform you’re dead.

You scream your silent,
Final words
As no one will witness
The fate you have created.

Oh the danger.

Crystal matter has already formed
On the sharp edges
Of your watery,
Metallic eyelids.

Shards of space waste
And meteoroid fragments
Smack your cheeks
And sear your eyes
With animosity.

Oh how endless.

You can claw along the edges
Once you fall-
But you inevitably know
Your destiny
The second you leave
The platform.

Impossible escape.