I would do anything to be walking around and dancing in the streetlight.
I hate to be in and everyone else is outside painting cars and opening 12 packs.
I can’t get up and I have eyeliner on my face from my daily think and cry.
Depression,
You keep me away from everything and everyone.
My life is empty though my heart not so much.
It is full,
of guilt.
When you die,
there better be a chance they let me back in with them.
I will get drunk and paint a picture of what I used to look like on the car of the person who let me down.
I’ll not think of what makes me sad and I will leave my bed to night.
Depression makes me want to sit and do nothing.
Well there is no time for that,
is there?