I want to die.

There. I said it.
I wrestle with every waking moment
wondering if I will finally pull the trigger.

It berates me emotionally.
The friendships I've lost
the lovers I couldn't please,
have all felt this inner turmoil of mine.

It's so close to brimming to the surface.
All the while I am consumed by searching for a
glimmer of hope,
the so called 'silver lining'
Or  the will to push on.

But somehow I do.
I'm nowhere even remotely close to feeling sane
Or safe enough to hold a knife without testing
how sharp it is by gliding it along my scars first.

There is light..
But everywhere I turn..

It deserts me