Life is like a 3d printer, most of us don't have one.

I am dead.

I died when my spirit gave up,

it's just that my hearts beating and I'm breathing.

I am a body.

A body that was tortured by this world,

that hides the depression because of the judgement

a sad lump just doing the forced path of life.

I am not here.

A new thing is here,

one that has taken over my life,

controlling my every movement,

because I have given up.

Depression is here, and again it has claimed another tired, weary, lifeless soul.

Rain is small bullets,

falling from the sky.

Drowning insects,

flooding animals homes.

Splattering against the windshield,

doing no harm.

Reminding me of the painful bullets of depression,

constantly piercing my broken heart.

The scars,

my beautiful scars.

The stay with me,

longer than most.

I will forever be,

their sad lonely host.

But still with them,

I am not proud to boast.

Hope.

One word,

so much meaning.

Hope is when you find the light in the darkness.

Hope is when you tell yourself to believe.

Hope is there when you need it,

even when you cannot see.

Hope will be your guider, and also your everything,

Hope.

One word,

and yet, so much meaning.

Roses are red,

violets are blue,

sometimes it hurts,

to confess what is true.

Roses are thorny,

violets are weeds,

when will this world learn,

wants are not needs?

Wake up,

hide the tears,

put on the smile,

ignore the weight of depression,

cheer others up,

act silly,

come home,

cry,

repeat.