I can physically feel the depression. Covering my skin, seeping into my bones, becoming one with my soul. It is so bad it hurts, every step I take, every smile I fake. A cut deeper and deeper. I'm falling apart again. I just passed one month from my latest suicide attempt, and yet that fights to be the top of my thoughts. Blood running down my thighs, hips, and arms. Pills knocked to the ground as I try and swallow more. The homemade noose beside me. All fighting for my attention again when all I want is the girl with red hair and enchanting eyes. I'm fighting to break loose. I'm fighting to break free, but my fighting is failing. Help I'm drowning.