Another day. Another thought, another cut.

I’m lost in a dark room in my own head.
I’m in pain and agony from all the thoughts that circulate.
The frightening answer of suicide and leaving.
I feel weak because I can’t accomplish it. I don’t slice deep enough.
I don’t take enough pills and I don’t use a thick enough rope.
I consider myself a coward. Because I cannot finish what I started in the middle of the year.
I’m alone, I’m scared I’m afraid. I’m worried and I’m in pain.
Each breath I take is another mistake. I shouldn’t be breathing this air.
Am I selfish for wanting it all to stop?
Each smile I fake, I feel another crack in my heart.
Maybe one day, I won’t be a coward. Maybe one day, I’ll have the balls.