And I’m scared because I don’t want depression to win.
I don’t want it to be the end of my story.
Hope shatters at my fingertips at the thought of no way out.
One impulsive decision that is irreversible

And I’m scared because your story is much like mine.
Parallel almost.
Although you are gone, I will keep fighting.
In the moments where no hope is left-I will remain still until it passes,
because purpose flows through my veins solely from the one who gave me life.