Slowly I stroll to the balcony ,
look down from top of the Empire State .
Has been days since the day you died .

Someone yells up to me :”Don’t ...”
Just like I begged you before .
Did you listen to what I said ?

None of those people down there is right .
Too fat , too strong , too vague , too lively .
My mom , polices , some nurses … Couldn’t find you.

I remember the day you stood here 
at this very same place calling my phone .
Said : “It’s alright ! It just helps ”

Said : “Forget me . Live your life “
Said : “This is my choice . My final words”
Said : “I love you. Don’t let go”

Wondering why you did all that ?
Punishing your life and then ending it ?
“For freedom” - such a tragic joke you said .

Well, I want to feel it , too .
Feel those tortures you’d done for yourself .
Will it help ?

The 86th floor seems too high up here .
The breeze tears down my last courage .
Bite my lips , tight strictly, gasp my breath, do I want to go ?

Every step I’m closer to you .
A miss-step , I nearly fall down .
Shakingly, I grab the handle bar , hold down the urge to vomit.

But you’re down there , in my blurry imagination .
Too real , too sharp , too close  , yet so far .
Look at me and say clearly  “I heard you”.

Like an old leaf  , I fell down .
Will it feel good ? ...
“It’s alright . It just helps” ...