My heart aches like daggers are stabbing into it as I hear the words that cut like knives come out of your mouth 'lets just be friends' you say but you don't know how it effects me.
I blink my eyes not once but two times as I'm trying not to cry over some boy who broke my heart.
You broke my heart. You are the boy that left swords in my heart, not taking the time to take them out and help my wounds heal.
You are the boy that ignored multiple times while I tried to stay in love with you.
You are the boy that made these tears fall like pouring rain on a stormy day as I tried to make you stay

Dear depression,
You've been killing me inside for eight years now
Dear depression,
You've kept me in bed because the thoughts in my head consume me and eat me alive.
Dear depression,
I've faked a smile and skipped a meal for too long.
Dear depression,
Your best friend anxiety always kicks me when I'm down and causes my heart to stop and my hands to tremble when facing my fears.
Dear depression,
You've told me I'm not pretty enough so many times, to the point where I dodge the mirror and hide behind a mask.
Dear depression,
I've tried to numb you with alcohol and drugs but it only makes it worse.
Dear depression,
I'm tired of you. I'm tired of you determining my happiness and I'm tired of you making me stay when I could've went out.

Everything is my fault.
Everything from the tears you shed to your foot pressing down on the acceleration.
I would give anything to let you know I truly love you and I obviously made a mistake.
My hands are shaking and my breathing is unsteady because I'm trying not to breakdown.
My mind is far from where I want it to be.
I caused you to feel this way and I can't help you.
I can't stop you, I can't love you anymore either.

Lunch time is a time I dread.
I would much rather be dead than to eat in front of people.
The anxious feeling I feel is wondering if they're judging me.
Do I chew weird? Do I eat too  little? Or maybe I eat too much.
Lunch time is a time I dread because we have these 'rules' in society about  weight.
I've always been judged by my weight.
The anxious feeling I feel when I walk through the corridor at school is wondering if they're judging me with their mean eyes and evil grins as I walk past.
Does she eat? Should I ask her? Is she okay? Or maybe she's anorexic.
If you ask me, I'm quiet flattered by how much strangers worry about me.
But the time I will always hate is lunch time.
The haunting sound of the bell as I make my way down to the cafeteria wondering if they're judging me.

I hate that I need you like thirsty crops need water.

You.
I love you.
I love your voice, your laughter, and your eyes.
You.
Your presence makes me feel safe.
You.
I crave your lips against mine underneath the soft moonlight.
You.
I want you to hold me as we stare at the sky.
You.
I want to wake up to your tired blue eyes every morning.
You.
I fall in love with your smile everyday.
You.
I want to hold your hand as tight as I possibly can.
You.
I want to fall asleep in your arms as you whisper sweet lullabies in my ear.

I'm scared of ***.
It's not just the word that gives me anxiety, it's the act.
The act of taking your clothes off in front of someone you may or may not know.
The act of someone penetrating you and not knowing what to do, where your hands should be, or how your voice should sound.
The thought of does my ****** look okay, do I have perfectly aligned *******, do I have a model body, should I lose weight, or should I gain weight?
The thought of *** is terrifying to me and I have no idea on how to explain it any other way.