Hell hell hell

Lately I've been thinking about killing myself more than even I'm used to, I've been hoarding reasons and hating myself more than usual and then I just ended up thinking why after so many attempts they all failed. I think I knew they would fail but didn't bother fixing the traps because maybe I didn't want. Now I've been thinking about why I don't just do it and I realized I will never be able to kill myself because I'll always be taunted by this think called hope that it just might get better. God how I actually do wish for the good things to come because I'm tired of waiting. It's always one good day every few months. That's hell. It's all hell.