Hopelessly Hopeful

I’m standing in the kitchen, with a knife in my hand. 

I’m trying to be strong, trying to push on, trying to hold on. 

But I’m not strong enough to do that.

Everyday is something else, another reason to throw in the towel. 

Still though, I don’t want to go out like a coward. 

I’ve done shed so many tears that you can see the markings on my face.

Just like the paths travelers use, the markings are pretty clear.

Everyday I seem tired because I’m completely drain.

Is my life worth living? Maybe tomorrow, I’ll ask again.

~KC