Depression breeds fear, how long has it been since I've actually been here?
Small Windows of myself still appear.
Desperation to be me again, will it really fix things?
Or will I fail and lose all bearings?
My anchors holding me down they mean everything that actually matters.
Must get better, must get answers.
Whatever it takes until my walls.... Fall.
Caged in by no one other than myself.
Crying, shouting, calling for help.
See me, the real me, here I lay inside,
The prison that is my own mind.
Remember the old me?
I promise, she you will still find.
