Depression is darkness, the inability to breathe. The rapid thinking that oxygen has become one of your enemies.
I say love how you hate yourself because at least there's something to fucking hate. To feel. To feel the mist of darkness while these whispers in my head intensify to husky screams asking when my brain will explode so they can breathe.
They know that no one has a voice when no one is listening and I really wish you listened and there's a violent riot of staying silent.
But being quiet is torturous to those who need to hear something and that violence has its own sort of beauty.
And you are the only thing I see beauty in. You have this violent smile. You are my violent prayer at 12am even though I'm tired of questioning my faith. Loosing faith as every time I try to open my mouth, hand clasped together I feel God saying 'your too complicated for love.'
I inject my daily dose of heroine and I watch it suffocate my veins, I love pain because it's the closest feeling to being alive. Oh so beautiful, trying to hide the best inside, trapping your demons in your lifeless burning copper eyes.
