I wonder if you ever think about the girl you left behind.
I trust in the feelings I get around you. Those kind of feelings aren’t just something you throw away.
I don’t want to have a conversation about if I’m OK or not. I’m not.
I thought I knew what calm and content felt like, but now that you’re in my life, I don’t think I truly knew much about those things at all.
She can’t remember the last time she felt like she wasn’t deserving of love but you made her feel like she wasn’t worth it.
I’m not sure what will end this cycle of late nights and quick goodbyes. I’m not sure what’s going to make it so I don’t crave your hands on me.
Have fun with your friends. Eat a burger. Eat a salad. Eat whatever you feel like eating. Don’t count calories, count memories.
That’s the thing about depression, there’s no real reason to have it, you just do. It’s a part of your brain. It is something that is for some reason your reality. It’s mine too.
I want you to tame my wild and unruly heart and make it your own. I want to become a part of you in a way I’ve never been a part of someone before.
I need someone to pray for me. I need someone to beg for my soul back because it’s completely imprisoned in your hands.