You were my first love, But also my first heartbreak. You were my first kiss, But also my last. For you, I am willing to wait. For your touch, your smell, your voice.
I am waiting for something that will never happen.
Maybe if I tell my depression That I will never get tired of it, and I will always be here for it, it will leave me too. Cause that’s what they all say and yet they leave anyway.
Probably the only time in my life that something/someone leaves and I’ll be happy.