I talk to her, and her
She talks back, it echoes
I squeeze her, and her
She burrows into my chest, splitting it

I laugh with her, and her
She smiles back with too many teeth
I can’t love her... and her, and me
We cry tears, we should have never let be.

Creams to reduce eye puffiness
Give it a few hours, she'll be a mess.
She does her make up with dexterity
Her tears will smudge them soon.
But she's gotta maintain her popularity
She puts that neon pink lipstick on
Gives the customer want they want
She is beautiful without being ******
They say her name is of that if a flower
I observe her closely
She takes out a cigarette and places on her lips
The same one in which I always wanted to kiss
Her face I can never forget
Pretty girl is gonna die soon if she smokes too many cigarettes

I follow her in the alley
She notices me and laughs half-heartedly
I shuffle past the drunken men
I want to know her
We have never met.
She runs away from me and laughs
"Go home, handsome!  You'll get lost in this boulevard."
She offers me a cigarette
"Doesn't taste that bad, helps me forget"
Pretty girl is gonna die soon if she smokes too many cigarettes.

"Hey, hey, hey it's going to be just one shot."
I give her a smug smile.
"Tonight, you will be my boss."
I feel the drugs permeating my system
She ends up crying
She wants someone to listen.
Goes on rambling about her problems
and an ex called Wilson.
Influenced by drugs
I tell her to do the wrong thing.
"If you think drugs are the solution,  you should do it!"
Traces of her eyeliner on her lower eye lashes.
"That *****'s outfit hardly matches!"
She gives me one last hug
and places a cigarette on her lips.
I master the courage to give her a little kiss.
Her alcohol breath isn't the best.
Pretty girl is going to die soon if she smokes too many cigarettes.

Her lipstick on the outer edges of her mouth.
Her laughter a little bit too loud
All the curves in the right places
Her love of alcohol and cigarettes
Drunk in our own promises
Letting the drugs take over what ever is left
She just woke up
and lighted a cigarette to her lips
Sound of sirens that dips
It's been 12 hours since we've met.
Her face I can never forget.
Pretty girl is gonna die soon if she smokes too many cigarettes

I don't belong here
In this...place.
Somehow I convinced myself
That I did.
Somehow I told myself
I couldn't do any better.
Somehow I lied to myself,
And now I don't know if I can trust myself again.

I always thought my depression lasted for a few muted, rainy days, but here I sit with the sun in my eyes and a warm breeze on my skin and I haven't felt so much pain as I do now.

I always thought my depression was like a knife in my stomach, but it honesty feels like knives are coming from inside me, traveling through my veins and piercing my skin until no one can touch me for fear of getting cut.

I always thought my depression made way for a new outlook on art, music, writing, and life in general, but I haven't painted, sung, or written in months and I am as sure as hell that I haven't lived.