It was rather beautiful; the way he put her insecurities to sleep.
The way he dove into her eyes and starved all the fears and tasted all the dreams she kept coiled beneath her bones.
And in the end, we were all just humans,
drunk on the idea that love,
only love, could heal our brokenness.

Depression isn't a feeling and it isn't sadness.
You don't just "feel depressed" and you can't make it go away.
Being depressed is a numb feeling that never goes away.
Some people deal with it by self-harming.
Some people deal with it by committing suicide.
And others don't deal with it at all.. Crazy, huh?
Getting up, just wanting to go back to sleep.. Smiling and laughing, pretending you're great when you KNOW deep down inside you, you want to die.
Depression is like drowning, but no one tries to save you. You see all of these people swimming and having a great time, while you're slowly running out of breath, trying to swim up, but you can't.
You just.. Can't.
The funny thing is.. People use it to get attention.. What's so great about depression? It's so great that you have to PRETEND. Why can't you just talk to people instead of using a REAL sickness to get attention?
Depression isn't a feeling or an emotion.
It's a mental illness..
I HATE it, but yet.. I wouldn't make it go away. You're probably wondering why.. Why wouldn't I want to be always happy? Why wouldn't I want to be alive instead of just existing?
Because it's a part of me. Without it, who would I be? Think about it..

When I'm talking
No one's hearing
When I'm silent
They're all fearing
I'm screaming and aching
Can't you hear?
I'm crying and breaking
Don't you care?
Why, of course you don't
You never do
You never cared
Of me, only you
Cause now I'm standing
In what feels like rain
The blood is spilling
I only feel pain
I'm crying and breaking
Don't you care?
I'm screaming and aching
Can't you hear..?

I am filled with things and I battle feelings I never wanted to exist inside me.
I lack too much confidence and I carry too much sadness and my body is full of stars that never learned their name.
I wear my insecurities like pockets and I fill them with my fears and my hands are growing tired from reaching down into them to hold the feeling of being afraid.
I am afraid. Always afraid. Afraid like chimes when the wind lips are sealed afraid like your eyes when the stars fall asleep in the black.
Afraid like dreams when they realize they are just dreams and that reality is that one scar that will never fade away.
I am terrified. Terrified that things inside me are the things that will keep me from ever finding a home inside someone else.