Depression is the dark blanket that surrounds and holds me tightly.
Depression is the only true friend a bitch like me ever has or deserves.
Because of this friend, I am sad, crying, suicidal, alone.
But also because of this friend, I am happy and surrounded by a warm cloak that only a friend named Depression can comfort with.
Sure, a blade has touched my flesh only once, but the thought crosses my mind daily.
Because of you, Depression, life is dark and dreary.
Life is cold, harsh, and bleary.
Some days, I just want to sit and cry.
Other days, I just want to end it all and die.
Sure, Depression isn't really the kind of friend I want...
But its the only kind of friend I deserve.
A friend who encourages me to cry, who encourages me to cut.
A friend who helps me guide the blade across my wrist and thigh.
Yes, it hurts, and yes, I cry,
But the only way I feel good about myself is by causing myself to bleed.
The only way I can feel happy is to feel myself in pain.
Not pain from another, but pain from me.
Depression, you are my only friend...
Depression... you will be there at the end...