i told my counsellor that "i didn't want to end up like my sister."
and after i released that thought from the darkness of my mind,
my tears came to comfort me,and i realised something.

i cling onto depression, because it's all i know.
it's all i have.
i've grown up around sadness and hurt,
i don't know what it's like to be without the thoughts of pain 
and memorise of destruction.

that being said,
of course i want to be happy.i don't feel as if i can allow myself to be loved,
if i can barely look at myself anymore.

i miss the days of childish play,
of running about on a field, and writing with a crayon.i miss drinking juice at lunchtime,
and making dasie chains for my mum.

where did it all go?
and don't you fucking tell me that it's part of growing up.
because i know for a fact it's not.
this lingering sadness that intoxicates me like a bad friend,
should not be part of an innocent life.

i write this, to try and make a messy point.
that maybe, just maybe,
there is a chance of happiness,

if i just let go of the sadness.