sitting at the edge

i can feel myself siting a the edge looking at the concrete below longing to jump into the void ready to jump at any second ive realized life is a boring cycle of pain tha just give me a glimpse of wha other ppl just get to have teasing me oh how i envy those souls that know the true feeling of happiness and joy how i envy my friends for having fun without me while i sit in the sidelines waiting for my turn yet every time i get that attention i an help but feel guilty for i dont deserve this attention when all i will do is waste it or maybe they just pity me for how weak i can be or how frigile my my bones seem to be or for my skin that easily bruises at the touch how soft it is but their neglect sinks further than any bruise that i could bare that i could wear along with all these scars i call my art marks engraved in my arm where I've taken the blade and sometimes I wish I would have stayed but all I know how to do is run away so I sit at this edge with nothing left to say because soon it'll be my final day