As I lay her down to sleep,
I pray to God that she will keep,
Herself safe and out of harms way,
But I too must help her on some days.
She is my best friend,
I'll love her forever,
Stiff as a board,
Or light as a feather,
I'll always keep her close to me,
She'll never slip away from me.
I love her so much,
I just want her to know,
That she is mine,
And I'll never let her go.

What is depression?
Is it really what you think?
Can it be found under the kitchen sink?
Is it a grime that covers your skin?
Can you buy it at Walmart in a plastic bin?
No, its a disease.
It clouds your mind.
It makes you blind.
Nothing is pure anymore.
Your niece's third birthday party isn't joyful,
it's sad.
Depression clogs your brain.
It makes you insane.
It makes it more clear that you shouldn't be alive.
So then you dive,
deeper and deeper.
And no matter how hard you try,
you can't get to the surface,
and eventually you die.
When you run out of air,
you open your eyes.
You realize you are no longer blind.
But it's too late,
because you've sealed your fate.
And at the end of the bright light tunnel,
Heaven awaits.

My mind is blank,
My head erased.
The blood is flowing.
I slit the veins.
The floor is wet,
the carpet red.
Too late for help,
'cause soon I'll be dead.
I hold my breath.
My eyes get wide.
And just like that,
I finally died.

You've been provided with a perfect body to house your soul for a few brief moments in eternity. So regardless of its size, shape, color, or any imagined infirmities, you can honor the temple that houses you by eating healthfully, exercising, listening to your body's needs, and treating it with dignity and love.

Go to sleep and close your eyes,
and dream of broken butterflies,
who tore their wings against a thorn.
You know the pain that they've endured.
Dream of blood trickling down,
and wake up before you drown.
Silver metal shine so bright.
Scarlet blood that feels so right.
The moon light shining off your tears,
as you bleed out your worst fears.
In that night you start to cry,
and whisper The Cutters Lullaby.

"Hushaby baby,
you're almost dead.
You don't have a pulse,
and your pillow is red.
Dreamaby baby,
you never knew life would be this hard.
It's time to face the pain you've hid so well,
and down you'll come baby,
straight back from Hell."

I am depression.
My strangling hold,
keeps people away,
from being joyful,
and carefree all day.
They get sadder and sadder,
day by day.
They start to gather dust, and then fade away.

I am depression.
My strangling hold,
keeps people away,
from living life to the fullest,
each and every day.
The sky gets dark.
The grass turns gray.
And shattered and broken,
the Earth rots away.

I am depression.

There's a skeleton heart inside of me,
so deep down where no one can see.
This skeleton heart is mine alone,
just one complete depressing bone.
And I know I've been lonely from the start,
so please don't break my skeleton heart.