— Candace Bushnell (via hellanne)
I don’t know if what I have is depression.
All I know is sometimes
I look in the mirror and my eyes are blank pools,
Reflecting a girl back to me.
And when I stumble over,
or when the road trips me up,
Or when someone betrays or yells at me
For a fault that is not mine,
I will close my eyes to stop the tears,
and often imagine shooting myself in the head.
I know it sounds awful lot like clinical depression,
But I looked up the term and I don’t have it yet.
So help me define this;
What do I have left
And how do I save it?
This girl sings songs when she’s exhausted.
This girl doesn’t know how to quit, when she’s worked to the bone.
This girl wants to leave but doesn’t know how to say it,
To some boy who thinks she’s the kindest in the world.
She said she was beautiful.
But I think she lied.
You do not tell people you are beautiful
I’ve wasted my life on a half lived child,
Pinned my heart upon the dead,
And seldom have I hated myself
So my mother said.
He is a reminder,
Of a friendship that could have been.
He passed me by yesterday,
With a girlfriend, a life all his own,
And as though we were parallel timelines,
He passed me by.
Without even noticing me, as I didn’t.
Of course, your brain tells you, hey,
Doesn’t that- doesn’t that guy look like..?
And then he is gone as I swerve, looking back.
He reminds me of a time long gone.
And so strange it all seems.