holding on

she put on the coat and handed you the keys to her car and you said it's a nice day, huh and the look she gave you made something run up your spine. like she'd forgotten how to get back into her own body. like she was just-a-little out-of-reach. like she had been waiting a long time for someone to notice she was actually and truly empty.

i have all this anger in me. i wish i didn’t but it’s so much and so bright and i don’t want to keep swallowing it. it eats at me because it has to eat something so all this rage i have for no reason comes swinging back to punch me. like my fists are tired of me not using them so they only raise to leave my own body bruised. it’s tiring. i’m tired. in the movies depression is sobbing at two in the morning. in my life depression is being heartsick so loudly you can taste it. in my life depression is a sharpness that you can’t pull back.