The Longest Battle

Depression is my friend. Not a good friend - but a friend. It always finds its way back to me; whether I welcome it in or not. You are always there, you keep tabs on me and my progression. Then you fucking destroy it like you do most things in my life. Depression, you run so deep and through, through my blue veins - they're cold. Cold like the war, cold toward you. The war was feared by many, at any moment a nuclear missile could come crashing in. Sometimes you make me wanna blow out my brains but I’m scared it wouldn’t work. You make me feel like there’s nothing worth left to live for. Take a hard look in the mirror; your self loathe it mirrored back to me. Lightening and sand couldn’t make glass that tough, that thick, or that sharp. Only you can, depression.