a girl on a bench

it's a secret
written all over me
i fake it
until i can't 
anymore
until the burrowing
becomes a jail

I can't leave
I don't feel well
I'm too busy
I'm out of town

I'll leave a note on the door
don't come around for me
anymore 

the story changes
but the darkness
does not

fear sets in
who will i lose now
while i'm hiding
in my cell
they don't know that it's like
living in hell

too much time passes by
i'm bursting at the seams
i grow some courage
decide to say what i mean

i pep myself up
give myself the speech
it can't go that bad, right?
confessing to my plight?

i say the lines
over and over in my head
it's a chemical imbalance
sometimes i can't get out of bed
it's the needle, i'm the thread

but there it is
just as expected
a response that wounds
a feeling neglected
just think happy thoughts!
as if my soul could be bought
as if it was that easy
to free me

and so my world
gets smaller
my cell gets
darker
my sentence
lengthens
my roommate
revoked

R.I.P
here lies the shell of me
-Depression