Today the sun burned away at my face and i just let it burn.
Another angel turned her back on me.
She folded her wings and hung her head.
God you gave me this heart but I was wondering if I could trade it in.
I wail and I weep for I can not sleep for I stare at the ghosts of my own design.
Driving past the quiet steeples in the night.
I harbor these tears in my eyes.
She thinks she is hearing sounds in the night and I am fighting just to sleep.
And I wail and I weep.
The bells will ring in the steeple in the morning.
And I'm just now trying to find myself.
Singing the words to create acceptance were never my good intentions.
And now I've only a house full of regrets.
Shatter the glass of my eye.
And I will come to see this blinding darkness.
And I've lost sight of all that is real.
For I sit here alone. I write a novel of my own.
And there are no happy endings in this tradgedy.
The bells will ring in the steeple in the morning.
And I'm just now trying to find myself.
Singing the words to create acceptance were never my good intentions.
And now I've only a house full of regrets.
Sometimes I am almost content in my sorrow.
My ship is sailing to the seas.
So wave and blow your kisses.
Cause I'm not sure I'll be home anytime soon.
I've set out to fail the world.
I've set out to fail myself.
I will dream the dreamers lie that everything is okay.
When everything isn't okay.
He says my burden is also his but I don't want to put this on him.
Stare up at steeples lost in the night. I find myself so lost on the inside.
And now I've only a house full of regrets.
And as the wind blows it takes with it all the memories.
And as the breeze blows I turn my eyes to the skies and hope for hope
that this will soon come to pass.
I feel tired. I feel empty. This feeling is familiar and old. It's that friend that is always there, except this feeling isn't a friend, it's a ghost that keeps haunting me. It's there when no one is around. It's there when I'm crying. It's there when I'm sad. It's there always. I try to describe how depression feels, but I can't ever describe it in words that do it justice. It's as powerful feeling as love. You can't describe love anymore than you can describe depression. But I try anyway. The closest I can come to describing it is, it feels like drowning. It feels like the world is slowly going black and the water is rushing all around you. You see yourself sinking, you see the water rising, black and ominous. You are full of desperation, but you can't do anything, the water keeps rising until you're struggling for breath and are slowly choking. Depression is like slowly drowning, and each gasp for breath is a herculean effort, struggling to the surface to take a gasp of cold and empty air, only to submerge again and see everything clouded through your distorted jaded and watered eyes.
It's like Sylvia Plath said, it's a bell jar over your head, slowly, ever so slowly coming down, choking out the air and making everything stale, while you stare out behind your glass prison at all the people living their lives.
