As I walk hand in hand with my depression
I find my only friends are the ceiling fans who keep my company late at night
and the floaters dancing around my vision
whispering to me about all of the headlights
They blades of the fan mumble his stories into my ears
Of the kids just like me
Who are too young to feel this way
And the floaters tell me of each person Inside of the car of the headlights I’ve been staring at
They tell me I’m not alone
Other people feel it too
But still I find
That they are my only friends