I'm slipping into my depression all over again.

The thin red lines that marr my skin
They're signs of the battle I fight within.

Everyone wants to be her; the pretty, smart and nice girl, but no one took the time to find the darkness in her heart.

Her wings are broken

When depression was the sky, you taught me how to fly.

I am not my past. I am the person created by my past.

I live to forget.

Fake a smile and Ignore the rain.
See the sun, it'll be okay.

What's the point of being me??
I ask myself too frequently!!

"There is something you can always learn from the past that can do you good today and tomorrow, but don't make the past your burden."