Theres darkness coming,
It's fast and swallowing everything whole.
It surrounded me,
But I'm still here.
Why?

After continuous thinking,
I realized.
It's swallowing memories and emotions,
Not the people.

Her smile, her laugh, her beautiful blue eyes.
The way she pouts when she's annoyed;
All being erased from my memory.
The warm feeling that she left,
Being erased and replaced by
A cold and haunting force.

This enemy,
This fiend,
This killer,
This darkness -
Is depression.

I used to look forward to Sundays
It was our day

Sundays without you were rare
And now it’s a normal thing

Instead of laughing
And smiling
And loving with you

I am crying on a Sunday

I am hurt
I am lonely
I am feeling awful without you

I am crying on a Sunday

The air smells like you
Like a bottle of givenchy
Cologne, except brand new.

Like the thought of me and you,
The thought of something actually being true.

I think back on that afternoon
Where we downed that whole
Bottle of cognac.

When you said the three words,
Your pronunciation so exact.

You saw all of me that day
And I admired all of your
Charismatic ways.

The lights were kept off
And I took in every bit of your
Neatly kept loft.

You'd said that I was the only
Girl you brought to your home
And for the first time,
I didn't feel alone.

And I remember all of what you said,
Every syllable, every vowel I clung on to,
Cause I always think back on that afternoon,
Praying that for the first time
What we have is actually true.