unbearable heaviness of being me

Dear God
I can see how I have failed. I can see what is held before me. but the cracks in me are so deep and so profound that i have no hope of being repaired. i cannot be perfect. even the thought of nor making mistakes. the mere thought of not failing again, fills me with such dread, because i know i will. tere is no way for me to be perfect. the little excuses that i built into the back of my mind; the little back doors, the are being shut and there is nowhere for me to find passage. here i sit, in a heap and there is nowhere for me to go. i wonder if even your salvation makes room here. because i know you have led me here to this anneccessible, inescapable place. it is your stare, in the guise of all my accusers, which forces me to look at the ruins of my character. how much further can you dissemble me? how much more can i take? personally i want to die now. i am not dicouraged by death. i am terrified to fail again. all those whom i am supposed to serve have exposed me stitch for stitch. there i lie now, exposed. ravaged by you. where to now. once more no going back. unless i kill myself, no escape. because i am not perfect, and most likely will not be as long as i live. so always to be rejected. implacable perfection is my accuser. God help me, i am tired and sick of heart. mercy. mercy.