My  d e p r e s s i o n  is like everybody else's, but not really.
I want to feel happy, play goofy, be silly!
But I can't, it doesn't work that way.
The way it works- My depression controls me.
Like an employee, I listen to my job,
Cut? No problem.
Drink? **** yeah.
**** myself? I've been thinking about it..
Without my depression, who could I listen to?
The angel who cheers me on, or the Devil that boos?
Speaking of which, I am D
                                        R
                     ­                    U
                                          N
                   ­                         K
on this *****.

My depression is like everybody else's, only sometimes.
Other times it's like, "Uh, uh, uh, you have to share! Or else you die."
Maybe not that dramatic, but the suffocating news of death really pushes you to cry.
My depression makes me D O things,
S
  A
    Y
things!
Things I don't want to say,
But.. My depression always finds a way.
My depression is my friend, not a very good one.
More like a fiend than a friend but I won't know the difference when a pull the trigger off a gun.