Listen to me, talk to me, tell me what I need to feel.
This isn't real.
You push me away when I get close... and now you see
we're drifting apart and losing me, A piece of who I am and it does't matter to you because you don't care.
Inhale my depression, exhale my suppression.
I keep everything in because I'm afraid.
Afraid of me. Afraid of what you'll think of me.
You do the same though, so I guess it's okay for you. Just not me.
This isn't fair...what you're doing.
I keep falling. Falling deeper into this state of depression that I can't escape, and these thoughts keep knocking on the door.
Keeps me wanting more.
Though the more I suppress them the more I lose a piece of myself.
I feel like I'm becoming less human.
But that's okay because you are too.