you could kill me in any fucking way you wanted. and i would let you. does that make me stupid? probably definitely. but my god, if it meant i’d get to see your lips one last time, i’d smile while you did it.
Depression isn’t awful at first. It just feels like an extra sweater. And it feels nice when you’re alone, but when you need to go outside, you feel the weight and the heat begging your body to take it off. But you can’t and won’t, because it’s your sweater.