Words themselves are beautiful.
What's not beautiful,
is stringing them together
to make something ugly.

I felt you.
I didn't admit it, not until later,
But I did.
You crept up on me,
The way the sunrise creeps over the horizon, burning a path across the sky.
At least that's what I had thought.
In reality, I knew what was happening.
And I didn't move to stop it.
I didn't want to.
Who wants to stop a wave?
There's no point. They come and go, whether we want them to or not.
I thought you would come and soon be gone.
But you stayed.

I always find it difficult.
To talk,
To explain,
To make you understand.

The doctors say I have "mild" depression
A term, I know, not meant to cause any harm.
But the doctors aren't the ones who live through it
They don't deal with the causes.
They don't feel the tears on my face.
They don't hear my silent sobs.
They don't understand that my "mild" depression...

Doesn't feel mild.

I don't love you the way I did yesterday,
Because I love you more and more every second.
I don't love you the way I did yesterday,
Because I'm not the same person as I was then.
I don't love you the way I did yesterday, because if I did I would still be here

Today I burst open, spilling my love for you with words,
Leaving no doubt that it's impossible for me to love you the way I did yesterday.

Have you ever had an average day,
feeling perfectly fine,
but when you get home
one small thing triggers something
that makes you stressed,
that makes you cry,
that completely ruins
your perfectly average day.