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ObsessionYou are my obsession.Source of my depression.One that I crave.Love that is depraved.I still hold on to.I would die for you.Even if you're not here.My mind just won't clear.Only one I want.Continually haunt.Mentally I attack.I'd still take you back.Glad you disappeared.Return I feared.Walk through my door.Want you even more.Wonder if I'll heal.Was this even real?
force a smile: half dead.dear you,to you, i will send my heart.it will come in a small brown package,with: careful, fr a g ile stamped on the front.you must promise to do as the package says..dear you,i wrote songs for you.i wrote songs for you and memorised them.i sang them to the sky.did you hear me? did you hear me?.dear you,every night i drew a little hearton a colourful sticky note.i put them, one a night, on the mirror in my roomas a reminder that i was loved.four hundred and seventy nine ruined sticky-notes later;the message still hadn't gotten through..dear you,every night i brush my teeth.one, because the dentist told me too.two, because i like the taste of toothpaste.every night i brush my teeth until my gums bleed.one, because sometimes it just happens.two, because i like the look of crimson on my off-white teeth..dear you,i like to look at my baby photo's.i like to look at myself as a kid, smiling.i like to wonder what the fuck happened..dear you,i do
We weren't stolen or lost...Who will standFor the girls with broken heartsAnd too much make-up and too-short skirtWho cry for something betterThan petty drunk - 'it was just one night' - loveWho will screamFor the whisky breath boysWho broke hearts to hideHow scared they really areThat you'll find out who they really areWho will fightFor the skinny girls obsessed with numbersNever quite low enoughAnd they want shoulder blades and pelvic bonesAnd beauty and disgustWho will speakFor the kids who stay silentAnd hide bruises under pretty clothesWith smiles that break your heartWhen you look into their eyesWho will reachFor tobacco-breath girlsWith combat boots and a fuck off glareTo hide nightmares from the pastBecause no one will get close againWho will smileAt the ones with tear stained cheeksAnd long sleeeves all year 'roundWho are told it's 'just a phase'When they know that they are dieingAnd destruction will be cause of death
Psychotic DepressionAccording to my doctor's session,I have psychotic depression.I looked it up online.I'm worried by my find.It's worded different ways,But serious it always says.The diagnosis goes to few.The description seems to be true.Aware the voices aren't real.Ashamed of how I feel.Hid the voice for many years.Being found, greatest of my fears.This means a change in pill.Make me no longer ill.
self hatredI don't know how you could see this body as perfectWhen all I see is mistakesI'm not sure how you looked into my eyes and said you saw angelswhen all I can see is deep darkness hiding demons in the shadowsYou claimed I'm was too skinny and needed to eatI say I'm not skinny enough and refuse to touch anythingYou said I should openI say I'm under lock and keyYou said you where leavingI want you to stayYou said I was beautifulI only see uglinessYou said you'd returnI knew you wouldn'tYour last words to me where full of hateand finally we agreed on something
DepressionSleeping behind the cool lines of emotionBiding their time, not willing to take a dareGrinning evilly while I try to stay out of commotionGiggling maniacally while I try to see whereFeasting upon the curling cinders of my painDigging its claws into my already cracked heartWatching me as I wait for the rainTearing my life apart