"How much time is left"?
The only question living in my head.
"The time is"?
the last question I asked you before you left.
"Why does time slow down in all the wrong moments"?
That was MY last question before i went off the deep end.

Is that what I needed?
To feel my death?
To fear my life?
Just to see you one more time I'd die all over again.
Because it's dark down here.
In this 6 feet underground Hell.
It's dark.
It's dark.
It's just dark.
But then there's fire every hour.
And the man who laughs at all of our wasted pain.
It's dark all over again.
My love where did you go when you died?

I hate you.
Not because of what you did to me,
But because of what it turned me into.

Me: Sadness?
Depression: No.
Me: Feelings?
Depression: Nope
Me: Do I belong here?
Depression: No.
Me: Can I die?
Depression: Yes.

2 months later after mum and dad help with the move to living alone.
Me: Hi.
Depression: Hey old friend.
Me: How do you wanna go.
Depression: Grab the knife.
Me: slowly tears fall Okay...
Depression: Slow and deep.
Me: Tears dry 'Kay.
1
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3
4
5
and it's done.
Goodbye World.