Is it a good thing

It's a good thing that I missed
the main vein in my wrist
That the bottle was half empty
when those pills were over-tempting
That I never had a pet
whose leash could fit around my neck
That my scars were seen when they were
So the blade couldn't dig any deeper
That a pillow pressed against my face
was moving at too slow a pace
That knives and poison were too much pain
a pain I knew I couldn't sustain
That not every single night I would cry
I would envision a way to die
That when I started those dreadful notes
I always crumpled whatever I wrote
That the good things happened when they did
so in those moments I could be a kid
That in time my wounds began to heal
and pain wasn't all I could ever feel
But now, I'm starting back at square one
with a brand new obstacle to overcome
Another year to live like this
or maybe, I'll hit and not just miss