I've made friends with my depression.
Grown to love
Something that might destroy me.
Or just maybe, it will help define me.
I cling to it
Because it's familiar,
Because it's a part of me,
Because it's the only part of me I can be certain of anymore.
I don't want it to change.
I don't want it to go away,
And leave me alone with some other stranger
Who would live in my head.
I don't want to feel better at this point.
Is there something wrong with me?
Wouldn't people normally want
Something like this to stop?
I wanted it to stop once.
To stop feeling lonely...