It can’t be this hard to talk to someone.
Not everyone in the world , at least just one.
It’s too hard for me , I gotta runaway.
Then I’m thinking I don’t know when’s my last day .
To be thinking of good times that came before.
To be thinking about the present a little bit more.
Still doesn’t change the facts.
Facts I’m still having these attacks.
I can’t sleep because I wish I had someone to talk to.
It’s at times like these where I wish it could be you .
Like old days where I would kinda tell stories.
Now they are none, and it’s just hurting.
I’m still trying to be a selfless and caring individual.
Not really trying to compromise my morals.
If I keep on relapsing, then I will never learn.
If I choose not to care then let my world burn.
Let the captain go down with ship.
Jeez,enough with this.
That’s my mind on depression.
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