I found myself in my depression.
Held confessions despite suggestions and learned from broken lessons of a desolate desperate reach for an answer to all my questions. Left with second guesses to find the meaning behind your gestures as I sip whiskey excessively to contemplate the texture. I'm a passagessive pessimist, a social misanthrope with progress recessive, faulty coping mechanisms, and nicotine filled living condition. Im a walking contradiction conditioned to be addicted to friction. An affliction within, private, with no external depiction of the internal trouble that haunts me, the struggle taunts me, looks me in the face and forever flaunts the key to eternal happiness, but it's out of reach. I'll keep it brief. A disbelief in relief a constant holding of release I pick apart my heart piece by piece. In disarray and dismay I continue to decay and wallow in my own sorrow day after day. Tomorrow won't bring a better way. I'm sad to say these feelings won't go away. Permanently scared, you're imprinted on my brain and it's driving me insane. I feel the pain of the strain. I feel perturbed and deranged. I feel as if I'm hopeless and I'm trapped within the rain. This is an ode to you. The one who broke my heart in two, who left me blue, the one that made me write this, and the one I can't undo.
