she wished to be an enigma
a brilliant universe against the gray of everything else in the world.
she wanted to be the person people want to know,
she wanted to be the mystery that would only be solved by one.
she wanted to be the rarest beauty of the planet.
but instead she got stuck.
stuck with nothing to shine,
stuck with herself.
she couldn’t figure out how to illuminate herself,
so she faded.
slowly and slowly giving up on everything she dreamed of.
until she was just another piece in their gray background.
tired of fighting to be seen by them.*
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he watched her from the moment he saw her,
he thought she was the most beautiful being of the whole of existence.
he was drawn to her,
no matter what she did or where she went.
he wanted to know her,
he wanted to solve her mystery.
but he was scared he wasn’t enough.
he was scared that he was too gray
to be intertwined with her bursts of color.
and as she faded,
so did he.
till his was merely a spec,
of nothing.
tired of fighting himself to be seen by her.

waking up
just to be closer to death.
every breath
just to taste the sweet embrace of cold paper skin.
every sin
just to have the opportunity to skim the surface of hell.
every stay in a ****** motel
just to make friends with the devil again.
waking up
just to die in the end.

Desolation takes her heart
So she runs away to her safe place.
But she doesn’t know
behind the deception
A monster waits
To take her home.
Purple toes and pastel clothes
That’s all she’s got.
Humming a tune on her way through the parking lot.
Blocking out the sounds of those who doubt,
That this tiny flower can sprout.
Hidden demons in her house,
Screaming and shouting for the others to get out.
Glass on the floor
where she lies all sore,
From the bruises that litter her skin.
Purple toes and pastel clothes
That’s all she’s got.
Humming a tune on her way through the parking lot.
Blocking out the cries of those who deny,
That this little bird can fly.
Her monsters, they whisper,
Words of hate and destruction.
Slowly tearing her down.
So she holds on,
To purple toes and pastel clothes
Because that’s all she’s got.
Humming a tune on her way through the parking lot.

Depression is a lonesome soul. She lives in a small house with no lights on. Dark hair and dark clothes, a genuine smile never graces her face. She curls herself into a ball of black, making herself so small that she is barely noticed by most. She brings out tears in the dead of night as people lay in their beds. Gives them the sense of tiredness that can not be fixed with sleep.
Depression has no friends except the thoughts in her head. Wondering if she is good enough, wondering if her life is worth living. Wondering how much longer she will last. She is stuck in hole without a ladder or rope to get out. Falling and falling like Alice, until she reaches her dark twisted Wonderland. Full of things that make people cry or turn their head. Smelling of a potent rose with vanilla, addicting. The silence in this Wonderland is deafening, letting thoughts come to life, screaming. The taste of blood, metallic and of molasses, slow and sickly sweet.
Depression is an addicting woman if you ever meet. Depression is a lonely woman who only wants someone to love and to be loved.